#in return for listening five demanded intelligent conversation

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

A New Era (1)

Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony, but everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed him most, he turned against it. A hundred years passed, and the war ended, but a new Avatar has yet to be found. The Earth Kingdom waits, ready, for any stirrings of power expected to rise in their lands. The Fire Nation works to rebuild relations with the rest of the world, sending its trusted envoy Skulduggery Pleasant to keep watch over Nefarian Serpine. The Water Tribes strengthen themselves, and the last scattered descendents of Air Nomads hide, not yet ready to believe they are safe. Their newest member, Stephanie Edgley, starts to stretch her wings. The pieces are in place. A transplant of the Skulduggery Pleasant characters and plot into the Avatar world, to see what would change.

Chapter 1: The Stage is Set

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6

P1 P2 P3 P4

‘Story time! Story time!’

The little girl ran upstairs, never having looked so eager to be put to bed. Gordon followed, casting a helpless glance back at his brother and sister-in-law, who laughed heartlessly in his face and returned to their conversation by the fireside.

Sighing, Gordon left the warm embrace of Desmond and Melissa’s rather small (cosy, he corrected himself) living room and followed the five-year-old up the rickety staircase.

She was waiting in bed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Gordon took the seat she mandated by her bedside.

‘Story!’ she demanded again.

‘Alright, alright,’ Gordon said grumpily. ‘Spirits, you’re bossy tonight.’

‘Please,’ she corrected herself, giving an adorable gap-toothed grin that mercilessly eliminated all his defences. If Gordon hadn’t been so impressed by its effectiveness, he would have been irritated.

Who was he kidding, this kid had stolen his heart with her first words.

Fortunately, he reassured himself, no one besides himself knew that, so he would not be susceptible to any teasing from her parents. Ignoring the little voice reminding him that all his niece had to do was enthusiastically exclaim “Story time!” in order to get him to abandon intelligent adult conversation and obey her wishes, he made himself as comfortable as he could.

‘What story would you like tonight? The one about the valkyries?’

‘I’m Valkyrie,’ she told him.

‘Yes, your mum and dad were just telling me. Do you feel braver with your new name?’

‘Yes!’

‘No more bad dreams?’

‘Uh uh. No more bad spirit. He leaves me alone now.’

‘Well that’s very good to hear. You can raise all kinds of Cain for him now.’

Valkyrie laughed, even though Gordon didn’t think she knew what he meant.

‘So, what kind of story would you like? We’ll have to make it a good one, I’m going back to Omashu tomorrow.’

‘I wanna know about the airbenders!’ Valkyrie bounced in place, ruffling her covers.

Smoothing them back over, Gordon said, ‘Ah, yes. Now this one is a true story, so we have to be very respectful. Are you going to be good and listen quietly?’

Valkyrie nodded eagerly.

‘Alright then.

‘Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony, but everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. The evil Unnamed Fire Lord wanted to rule the world, so he secretly made machines that could climb cliff faces, and ships that could sail as fast as the waterbenders, and trained an army to overpower anyone who would dare stand in his way.’

‘Except the Avatar,’ breathed Valkyrie, eyes wide and entranced.

‘That’s right. Now the Avatar was only young- a little older than you. He was still being trained by the monks at the Air Temples, and was far from ready to face the Fire Lord. And the Fire Lord was coming. He knew he had to kill the Avatar if he wanted to rule the world, so the monks came up with a clever plan: they would trick the Fire Lord by hiding the Avatar at the Northern Air Temple, so that when the Fire Lord came to the Southern Air Temple, he wouldn’t find what he wanted, and the airbenders could trap him.

‘But something went wrong. The monks underestimated the Unnamed’s desire for power. Instead of just attacking the Southern Air Temple, all four temples around the world were invaded. The Unnamed had decreed that not only the Avatar, but all the airbenders must die. So the Fire Nation stormed the air temples and killed everyone they found, and if they heard whispers of airbenders who had escaped anywhere in the world, they would hunt them down and kill them too.’

‘How did the Avatar get away?’ Valkyrie asked in a hushed voice.

‘A very clever airbender protected him through the chaos of the battle. He helped hide him and trained him, taking him from nation to nation so he could master earthbending, and waterbending, and firebending too. They spent years hiding and biding their time, growing stronger and inspiring resistance and freedom fighters across the world! They became known as the Air Avatar and his master, the Last Airbender. And the Last Airbender was your great-grandfather.’

Valkyrie clearly already knew this, back to bouncing in place with a huge grin.

‘But we don’t talk about that to others, do we?’ prompted Gordon.

Valkyrie shook her head soberly. ‘It’s a secret.’

‘Yes it is.’

Before Gordon could continue with the story, Valkyrie asked, ‘Uncle Gordon, why is it a secret? There’s no more airbenders anywhere anymore, not even Mum or Daddy or you or me or Uncle Fergus or Aunty Beryl or Carol’n’Crystal.’

‘Well, the bad people who were around back then didn’t care if you were really an airbender or not. If you were related to an airbender, or friends with an airbender, or helped hide an airbender, that was good enough for them. So we just keep this little secret to ourselves, because even though it’s not that dangerous anymore, there’s still bad people like that out there somewhere.’

‘Okay.’ A troubled frown worked its way across Valkyrie’s face. ‘That’s scary.’

Gordon winced, then hastily backtracked, sitting on the bed beside Valkyrie and putting his arm around her, making sure not to squash the threadbare brown badgermole toy nestled in there with her. She snuggled into his side.

‘It’s okay, we’re just being careful. The bad people are all locked away now, and they’re not going to hurt us. You don’t have to be scared, we’re all perfectly safe. It’s just in case, you understand? Your mum and dad are never going to let anything happen to you.’

Looking slightly more reassured, Valkyrie nodded, and Gordon hurriedly continued with the story, hoping she’d forget about the warning.

‘So, once the Avatar was all grown up and had learnt how to bend all four elements, he went to fight the Fire Lord. And they had a great battle! Fire flew, and rocks smashed, and the wind howled and the ocean roared. It was incredible! But then the Avatar got hurt, and the Fire Lord was winning. He closed in, ready to strike- and out of nowhere, who came to rescue the Avatar but his old master and friend, the Last Airbender!’

‘The Last Airbender fought with everything he had! The Unnamed had killed his people, his family, his friends, and he would not let him take anyone else! He wanted to make the Unnamed pay for all he had done.’

‘That’s bad,’ Valkyrie piped up. Gordon glanced down at her in surprise.

‘Is it?’ he said with interest. He hadn’t thought she’d pick up on that particular moral deliberation.

‘Yeah. Daddy said the Air Nomads wanted peace, and wanted to be nice to other people, so that’s what we should do. Great-granddad forgot that.’

‘Yes. He did. Good girl for remembering.’ Personally, Gordon was on his grandfather’s side there, but he doubted Melissa would appreciate him lecturing her five-year-old daughter on the subtleties of war and justice.

‘Like you say, the Last Airbender forgot about what he’d been taught in his youth, and wanted revenge. He fought like he was possessed by a dark spirit! Some say he was, and that the blood of the Spirit World will forever flow in our veins.’ Valkyrie shrieked as he tickled her, giggling until she calmed down.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘No,’ said Gordon. ‘He just fought really well.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘But in the end, the Unnamed won. The Last Airbender hurt the Fire Lord so much that he had to retreat, but was fatally wounded in return. With the last of his strength, he made sure the Avatar was safe, and would continue to fight back against the Fire Nation. And then he died, at peace and knowing he had done his part so that the world might one day be saved.

‘Reinvigorated, the Avatar might have gone right after the Unnamed and challenged him again! But something was happening in the Fire Nation. The Unnamed was old, and though he was powerful, he was growing weaker. One of his younger generals decided that he wanted the throne for himself, and before the Avatar could finish the job, he assassinated the Unnamed and crowned himself Fire Lord Mevolent.

‘Fire Lord Mevolent was no less evil than his predecessor, and the Fire Nation became stronger under his reign. For sixty more years, the war raged, and the Fire Nation was clever. They knew the Air Avatar wanted to defeat the Fire Lord, and made sure that he never got another opportunity. And so, in the end, it came down to the sheer will of the people.

‘After one hundred years of war, the world was desperate. It was no longer the Avatar’s job to save everyone- it was up to everyone to save each other. So the Earth Kingdom gathered the last of its soldiers, and the Water Tribes the last of their warriors, and even the people in the Fire Nation who didn’t agree with the war and didn’t like Fire Lord Mevolent all rose up! And together, they planned, and they were clever, and they became strong and quick and braver than they had ever been before! Fire Lord Mevolent was a very evil man, and he was bad to many, many people, even his own family. Eventually, he made so many enemies that the bad Fire Nation soldiers were overwhelmed, and Mevolent himself was defeated by his own son. The war was finally over.

‘Fire Lord Caisson put the bad Fire Nation generals in prison, and the ones who were willing to learn how to be good again were given a second chance. Then, he and everyone who had helped him began rebuilding cities and villages and farms, but most importantly, they began to rebuild trust. And in the end, the world became much safer, and much, much happier. Just in time too,’ Gordon added, ‘because you, little missy, were born not long after the Hundred Year War ended. We needed to make sure everything was ready for you, after all.’

Valkyrie giggled, but her smile faded sooner than Gordon would have liked, and she cast worried eyes up at him. ‘But Uncle Gordon, you said all the bad people got locked away, but just now you said some of them got a second chance. What if they go back to being bad?’

Well, Gordon couldn’t say he wasn’t worried about that too. It had taken Gordon longer than he cared to admit to relax around any firebenders; he was still learning, to be honest. After generations of knowing that the lives of himself and his family rested on one stray rumour about their heritage, deconstructing that mentality was going to take some time. Especially as more than a few of the firebenders loyal to Mevolent had escaped capture and were still out in the world somewhere.

Fortunately, most of the really crazy fanatics had been jailed in various top-secret locations around the world that Skulduggery wouldn’t divulge no matter how much Gordon pestered him. But Serpine now, Serpine was a worry. Apparently the Dai Li had him under strict observation in Ba Sing Se. Not strict enough, if Gordon’s sources were to be believed, and Gordon was inclined to do so; after all, there had to be a reason Skulduggery had gotten the Fire Lord to make him a Special Envoy and send him over to the Earth Kingdom. If that reason wasn’t something to do with keeping an eye on Serpine, Gordon would eat a whole sack of fireflakes.

‘They’re not going to do that,’ Gordon told his niece reassuringly. ‘Have you heard of the Earth King? The one in Ba Sing Se?’

‘Eechan-Mary Torteyus.’

Gordon laughed. ‘Yes, him.’

‘Mummy says he wouldn’t know what we want if we bit him on the bum.’

‘Er, right. Him. Well, after the war King Eachan put a lot of rules in place to make sure that the people who were bad during the war could never do what they did again. So you don’t have to worry, because all the Dai Li agents and Earth Kingdom soldiers are ready for anything bad to happen.’

‘Uncle Gordon?’

‘Yes?’

‘What happened to the Avatar? He never defeated the Fire Lord. You said Caisson did instead.’

‘Well, that’s a bit of a sad story. You see, he never got another chance to end the war, and one day, after he’d done a lot of good things and helped lots and lots of people, he died.’

‘But there’s always an Avatar. He gets re-in-car-nat-ed,’ Valkyrie sounded out carefully. ‘That means he gets born again into another body.’

Gordon huffed dramatically. ‘Why don’t you tell the story then, since you seem to know everything, Little Miss Smartypants?’

Once she finished giggling, he said, ‘Yes, the Avatar was born again, into one of the Water Tribes this time. No one ever found out who he was though. Eventually he came out of hiding, but instead of helping, he joined Fire Lord Mevolent.’

‘A bad Avatar?’

‘A very bad one.’ Gordon had only ever heard stories, but they’d chilled him nevertheless. He was definitely planning on including some of them in a book one day. ‘People think he died at the end of the war, but the next Avatar hasn’t been found yet.’

‘What happens when they are?’

‘Well, you remember those rules I told you the Earth King made? Some of them mean that when the Earth Avatar is found, all their training and schooling will take place under the Earth King’s supervision. He doesn’t want the Avatar to become bad again, and he’s going to make sure it doesn’t happen.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘Now, do you think I’ve given you enough dreams for tonight?’

‘But I want more stories!’

‘Ah ah ah, you’ve coerced too many out of me tonight as it is. Time for bed now, or your mum and dad aren’t going to be very happy with me.’

With much whining and extortion (on Valkyrie’s part) for more stories to come, Gordon was eventually able to tuck her and her badgermole into bed. As he blew out the candle, he heard one last sleepy, ‘Uncle Gordon?’

‘Yes Valkyrie?’

‘Why did the Water Avatar go bad?’

‘No one really knows. Sometimes people just make bad choices.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Okay. G’night Uncle Gordon.’

‘Good night, little miss troublemaker.’

Shutting the wooden door quietly, Gordon reflected on that. For his writing, he’d researched the Avatar Cycle quite a bit. He’d heard that the spirit of the Avatar, Raava, was one of light and peace. It fundamentally shouldn’t be possible for an avatar to wreak as much harm as the last Water Avatar did; to do so would cut them off from the very core of their being… it must have torn him apart inside.

Although, the general consensus was, if there was ever anyone capable of cleaving their own soul in half, it was Avatar Vile.

#see ao3 tags #avatar au #fusion #avatar vile was my brainwave #cuz the egocentricity #inherited superpowers #and life tragedies #make skug destined for avatarship #skulduggery pleasant

[in-tua-deep]

Hey. I’m not feeling the best right now. Can w I get some Ben and Five headcannons?

oh no !! I hope you feel better soon :(

Five and Ben were pretty close when they were younger which means that Five knows that Ben was a little shit

He might have the likes of Diego and Luther fooled but Five absolutely knows. He knows how much Ben could actually shit talk. He knows that Ben was not an innocent

Whenever Five irritated Ben too much, Ben would frame him for something. Sometimes this would manifest in an academy wide prank war which would inevitably end up in punishments from Reginald that everyone would blame Five for. Five. And no one would would ever believe him that sweet, quiet, wonderful Ben would start this sort of shit

Five fucking knows okay

However Ben was also like, the only intelligent conversation that Five ever actually had on the team so like, it’s not like he can just drop Ben (even though he knows what he did) because who else is he supposed to share looks with over Luther’s boneheaded plans with? Allison? As if Allison would ever admit Luther was being an absolute idiot

They had the silent understanding that Ben could be as much of a sarcastic shit as he wanted and in return Ben would let Five rant about temporal physics and complex mathematics and actually ask intelligent questions which occasionally led to breakthroughs

“It’s not my fault you can’t hide your own assholeness.” Ben informs Five with a straight face after Luther yelled at Five for three hours after Five rightfully informed their number one that it was actually Ben not Five who put dye on his toothbrush that turned his teeth green

Five mouths ‘I am going to destroy you’ to Ben across the breakfast table and Ben just serenely asks Klaus if he finished the math homework for their lessons today like Five doesn’t even exist

Five is twelve when he realizes that Ben is actually the devil

But actually he really admires it

Even if the way he realizes it is because Ben turns big eyes on Diego and says that Five was being mean to him, which almost gets Five a knife in the arm

(Five returns Ben’s stupid book of octopus facts, he didn’t even want the stupid thing he just stole it to get back at Ben for stealing his good umbrella jacket... yes he can tell shut the fuck up allison)

“I’m going to time travel.” “No you aren’t.” “You want to bet?” “Five. Five. We have been going over the equations for literal weeks. Did you even figure out the prime issue?” “Shut your mouth.” “Knew it.”

And Five does time travel and his second thought after “What the fuck” is “fucking Ben was right and can never know”

okay admittedly there’s a lot of apocalypse trauma and he finds the bodies of his siblings and then finds out that Ben died young and he’s just. there’s a lot going on okay

and then he travels back and ben is still dead and he’s kind of like... he can’t not save Ben but he’s got to make sure there’s a future or whatever to go to when he travels back in time and snags his brother up or whatever

except then Klaus summons Ben and well

“You asshole!” Five howls, pointing accusingly

Klaus is vindicated

“You can’t talk like that to Ben.” Diego says firmly, as though the time all of his knives were superglued to his harness wasn’t all Ben’s fault. As though that time wasn’t blamed on Five. 

“No, no, let him speak.” Klaus says, like a man who has been forced to be the only recipient of Ben’s sarcasm and sass for a great number of years.

Ben has been dead and invisible for a long time and no longer gives a single solitary fuck about what his family thinks of him tbh, and with Klaus clean(er) and a lowkey grudge against Luther (because come on Luther, Ben was rooting for you we were all rooting for you)

So Ben has no problem being like “YES. ‘TWAS I WHO GLUED LUTHER’S HAND TO HIS HAIR AND FRAMED DIEGO FOR TIPPING OVER OUR 8TH BIRTHDAY CAKE.”

“How did none of you ever notice that I ‘acted out’ whenever one of y’all ended up peer pressuring Ben into using his powers.” Five grits out, because his family is filled with fucking idiots.

“In fairness,” Ben says with his arms crossed and a frankly unimpressed look on his face, “I also did it whenever you were being especially asshole-ish. Which was with great frequency.”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” Five hisses.

“Missed that opportunity by a large margin, baby bro.” 

and then Five screams with all his feral rage and tries to attack Ben because he isn’t often corporeal and he doesn’t want to miss the chance

Except Ben catches him in a hug and Five just freezes like a kitten who gets put in a cat harness for the first time and it’s great

“Oh my god I’m just now realizing why Ben and Five got along so well.”  - says every siblings with a braincell who has the sense to fear a Five and Ben team up

The first time that Five manages to frame Ben for something feels like fucking vindication

vindication, Ben

#ask me #ben is a little shit who became a larger shit #five was framed half his childhood and no one ever believed him #but also ben was the only intelligent conversation so... #ben talked a lot of shit as a child #in return for listening five demanded intelligent conversation #and to be fair five did pick on ben back #it's only he got in trouble for it #sometimes it was totally worth it though #he might have gotten extra training and dirty looks for a week and a bathroom in the house destroyed #but five personally thought it was justice and it was just a plastic spider anyway *jeeze* #five hollering: BEN IS A SHIT #diego: HOW DARE YOU BEN IS AN ABSOLUTE ANGEL #luther: he doesn't even do anything just reads #five: i'm going to go feRAL #ben: lol no i'm actually totally a shit #klaus: VINDI-FUCKING-CATION #klaus finally has someone to complain at about ben #five finally has someone who believes him #they both get drunk together over it while ben rolls his eyes in the background #sorry there are no real soft headcanons #only siblings being shits to each other #fivehargreeves05

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters x reader

[baldwin-montclair]

The Unlikely Advocate - No Spindle Required (PART 2)

Baldwin’s decision to make Isobel his blood sworn daughter draws the condemnation of the witches and provokes Lady Percy, the child’s grandmother, to request custody.

Brought before the congregation to answer for his actions in the wake of Eileen’s condition, and demonstrate his suitability as Isobel’s father, he has one last card to play.

PART 1

Tags: @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @sylverdeclermont @lady-lazarus-declermont @ordinarymom1 @thereadersmuse @marirable @pleasereadmeok

———

“You had no right to proceed before notifying the Congregation!” Satu lectured Baldwin, standing, not in his place of power, but in the centre as an accused.

In his place was Diana.

“I request that Mrs Bishop-Clairmont-“ Gerbert started.

“Doctor Bishop-Clairmont,” Diana interrupted, “if you wish to address me formally, you should at least do so correctly!”

“My apologies,” Gerbert sneered, “I request that Doctor Bishop-Clairmont recuse herself from this proceeding due to her familial connection with the accused.”

“There must be a de Clermont present in order to start a meeting and since no-one holding the title of de Clermont is without a familial tie to the accused, this meeting could not proceed.”

“Awfully convenient.” Gerbert interjected.

“The rules are not on trial,” Janet Gowdie gave Diana a knowing glance, “let us get back to haranguing a single father for doing what’s best for his daughter. Tell me, Mr Montclair, how old is the child in question?”

“Six, she will be seven on the tenth of next month.”

“Why did you mark her as your blood sworn daughter when she has a family already.” Janet prompted.

“Both the child’s mother and her aunt, my wife, who is the guardian chosen by this very body, were estranged from the family, it was Eileen’s wish that Isobel not be returned to them.”

“That is not a decision that can be made cross species,” Satu interjected, “the child is a witch she must be raised by witches, it is our rules!”

“Rules are rules.” Domenico needled Baldwin with his own words.

“Regardless of the actions that led to this,” Agatha spoke up, “the fact is that the child was lawfully adopted by Baldwin, it is binding, by both human and creature doctrine. She is now a de Clermont.”

“I agree,” Diana added, “the same authority that permits me to act as the de Clermont representative also makes her Baldwin’s daughter.”

“So his haste is to be rewarded?” Satu argued.

“What reward,” Baldwin snarled at her “my wife lies in a permanent coma and my daughter has lost not only her birth parents, but a beloved aunt who raised her. For my part, I had the honour of assisting in this for almost five years alongside Eileen. It was her wish that I take responsibility in the event that anything should happen to her. It happened. I took responsibility.”

“We should hear from the complainant,” Satu suggested, “bring in Lady Percy.”

“Will I have to talk?” Isobel asked Miyako as they sat in the congregation waiting chamber.

Miyako grinned playfully.

“It’s not like you to not want attention.” She teased the child who giggled at the statement.

“That’s different,” she smoothed out her brand new dress, effortlessly slipping into the serious de Clermont manner, “that’s with you and Uncle Baldwin...” she trailed off.

“What’s wrong?” Miyako noted her troubled look.

“I call him Uncle Baldwin because that’s what I’ve always called him but now, isn’t he my Dad, what does he want me to call him?”

Miyako sighed, there was no easy answer to give her.

“I think he wants you to call him whatever you feel comfortable with. The ritual we did was to make sure he can protect you, that nobody could take you away.”

Isobel nodded in understanding before a mischievous grin appeared.

“But I’m your only little sister, right?”

“Yes, I always wanted one, but you know, be careful what you wish for!” She caught the child, administering tickles which caused Isobel to giggle loudly.

“Take your hands off my grand-daughter!”

The blonde witch hissed from the door. She had two guards at her back.

Instantly, Miyako was on her feet in front of Isobel.

“Ma’am, we must proceed to the chamber!” One of the guards eyed Miyako nervously.

“Isobel, listen to me,” Lady Percy shook off the grip of the guards, “she is not your family, I am.”

“Family doesn’t do what you tried to do with yours!”

“What are you talking about?” The witch hit back.

“You’ll see!”

Miyako turned away to check on Isobel when the older witch summoned a fire-bolt and aimed it towards the vampire.

It was instantly deflected with a gust of witch-wind from Isobel.

“That’s my big sister you nasty, old...” Isobel hesitated, unsure if she should continue, “bitch!”

The Congregation had heard the commotion but until the doors opened, they were unsure on the events.

“Well, using offensive magic on this ground is not a great start,” Diana scowled, “do you have an explanation for yourself?”

“That vampire was upsetting my grand-daughter!”

“The grand-daughter we heard yell ‘that’s my sister’,” Baldwin started, “along with some questionable language that I will address with her later.”

He wondered where he could purchase a room sized teddy bear for the girl.

“It’s not appropriate for a witch to fraternise with vampires. Just because the covenant is no more, doesn’t mean we have to like it, bad enough my own daughter married one but she pulls my grand-daughter into this sin too!”

“I move to present my evidence demonstrating the unsuitability of this woman to be the guardian for a young child.” Baldwin continued with his case.

“What is this evidence? I have a right to know!”

“Peter Knox, your brother-”

“Oh, so my brother’s crimes are also my own? Or is it because I didn’t cave to social demand to denounce him. What he did was ill advised...”

“Silence,” Satu spoke up sharply, “your brother provided countless witches to Benjamin Fox, to be tortured, raped, forced to carry and miscarry his children until the mercy of death took them. Explain to me how that is I’ll-advised?”

“I did none of those things thusly I think you had better strike whatever evidence you have against him from my list of offences.”

“Unless you were involved,” Diana prompted, “did you offer him anyone, anyone at all?”

“N-No, of course not!” She hastily denied.

“I will continue,” Diana glared, “Knox kept a meticulous record of transcribed telephone conversations, many have been confirmed by the members in this chamber. Was there ever any conversation you might have had that could have been misconstrued by him?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she shook her head but looked decidedly less confident.

“He needs a powerful witch, Sophia would be ideal,” Diana read from a leather journal, “she would be the mother of a new race, guaranteeing the power and position of our family for eons.”

“What is that?” Gerbert asked.

“One of his transcribed calls, with Lady Percy,” Diana answered and turned to the woman, “do you remember this conversation, perhaps your response?”

The woman straightened up but remained silent.

Diana returned her attention on the book.

“Not Sophia,” Diana continued to read, “she is much too important to this family to risk on an uncertainty, what about Eileen?”

“You were going to bargain with your own daughter?” Janet Gowdie asked, the disgust evident on her face.

“Isobel was not even a factor in her decision,” Baldwin argued, “if Sophia was any less powerful she would have betrayed her, regardless of whether it would leave her grand-daughter without a mother!”

“I have heard plenty,” Satu spoke up, “and despite my distaste for the girl being raised by a vampire, I believe him to be the best placed to protect her.”

“Agreed,” Janet nodded and, along with Satu, glared at the young male wizard that had not long joined.

“Me too!” He added hastily.

“I do not,” Gerbert objected, “by all accounts the child is very powerful and the de Clermont’s already have two witch-vampire hybrids. How much power do you all want to give them?”

“As the only person here who understands and who has seen the love and care he has for the child, I must find in his favour.” Diana argued.

“I vote no,” Domenico sighed, “it’s too much power concentrated in one place. The risk of discovery by humans is too great and I believe that used to be a concern.”

“We vote for Baldwin also.” Agatha concluded.

“You are all fools, she needs a witch or her powers will become unstable.” Lady Percy hissed.

“I was raised by my aunt’s, witches, if she requires assistance with her magic, I, as her aunt will help her.” Diana answered.

“I won’t stay here and be lectured to by a traitor!”

The woman turned to find the guards directly behind her.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“You betrayed your own kind,” Diana stood, “they have the right to pursue action against you.”

She directed her words to the other witches.

“Do you want her released to your custody?”

“Yes, we need to hold our own hearing.” Janet answered definitively.

“Wait,” the newer witch objected, “what’s the sentence, what will happen to her?”

“She would be spellbound,” Satu answered, glancing nervously at Diana, “but in this case I believe it to be appropriate.”

“I’ll defer to both of your judgement,” the third witch gave a nod of approval.

“You can’t,” Lady Percy sneered towards Baldwin, “not if you want your wife back!”

“What did you say?” He glowered.

“It was a stroke of genius to keep her suspended in a magical state, she would have kept deteriorating, until I got what I want!”

“You would murder your own daughter to get the chance to pour your malice into another child?” Satu asked.

“I already have,” she shrugged, “Sophia found out what Peter was involved in and was going to expose him. It would have ruined our family name and I couldn’t allow that. You don’t understand how far I’d be willing to go to protect the Percy legacy!”

“And I thought witches were supposed to be intelligent,” Gerbert chuckled, “this one freely confessed to a crime nobody accused her of committing!”

“Shut up,” Baldwin snarled at him before turning his ire onto the witch, “you murdered your own daughter, and are willing to let another die. What of Isobel, would you sacrifice her for the good of your family?”

“No,” she spat, “my sons have power but not like Sophia. If Isobel is half the witch my daughter was, she is our future. Anyway, you are without another option, this is a negotiation. I give you what you want, you give me what I want!”

“Let me guess, the child?” Diana glared.

“Just to see her one last time.”

Baldwin laughed, a sound that surprised everyone in the room and had Diana look at him as though she questioned his sanity.

“Eileen’s power wasn’t just her magic, it was her conviction, her strength and her compassion,” he spoke with calm confidence, “but you mistook that for weakness, you thought she had less power because she didn’t channel it into what you thought was valuable! You will never see Eileen or Izzy again!”

“Her name is Isobel!” The witch shrieked.

“It is,” he remained calm, “Isobel Sophia Évelyne de Clermont and you just told me everything I need to know to save my wife!”

“Baldwin?” Diana prompted.

“The spell was never on Eileen, it was on Izzy, she knew Eileen would give up her magic and life force to save her. That’s why she wants to see Izzy, to kill both of them!”

“You have no proof of that, vampire!”

“Not yet,” he hissed, biting back the intense desire to rip out her throat, “but if anything happens to either of them, there will be nothing left of your legacy!”

“This meeting is over, we have voted and it is now up to the witches to administer punishment,” Diana looked to the three witches, “is that acceptable?”

“Yes, go, quickly, bring our sister witch back!” Janet encouraged and received a grateful nod from Diana.

“Come on!” She grabbed Baldwin by the arm, pulling him through the doors and towards the waiting area.

#baldwin montclair #a discovery of witches #adow #adow baldwin #baldwin de clermont #adow baldwin fic

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Fifteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to torture and prolonged, vivid depictions of assault. Stay safe!]

"Call tags?" The scribe droned, not even looking up from the terminal.

  Danse only hesitated for a second. "D, N, dash, four zero seven P." 

  The scribe punched in the letters and numbers, and Danse saw the young man visibly jerk in surprise. Rheumy brown eyes stared up at the towering suit of X-01 armor and the scribe's voice squeaked when he hissed, " Danse? "

  The armored man nodded.

  "Are you insane?! Danse--er, Paladin Danse, the elder has been on the warpath ever since you went...sir, he says you're a synth, a traitor to the Brotherhood. You're supposed to be dead! I knew there was something fishy about those reports!" The scribe whispered shakily. He looked incredibly nervous. "Most of us think he's off his rocker, but you try finding a soldier with the balls to tell him that point-blank!"

  "It's comforting that you all have such faith in me." Danse said, meaning every word. "I'm afraid the announcement of my death was a bit...premature."

  The scribe blinked. "Sir, after everything that...the amount of us that would stand by you through anything is the vast majority, I promise. Elder Maxson has locked up Paladin Brandis and-"

  "Tell me he hasn't harmed Brandis." Danse cut him off, relieved when the scribe shook his head hastily. 

  "I think even the elder knows better than to assault one of the most beloved officers in our chapter." The scribe exhaled a long breath, then looked back up at Danse. "Sir, you should know that...well, it may be a bit disappointing to hear, but even if you are a synth, we're still with you, sir." The scribe gave him a salute. 

  Danse's eyes pricked with tears. He couldn't believe that he had the power to inspire such unwavering loyalty. "At ease, soldier. With any luck, this will be a diplomatic engagement. I'll take Knight Vega and be on my way."

  "I...I am unsure if it will be so simple." The scribe admitted. "Ex-Knight Vega has also been confined to the brig since you went AWOL."

  " Ex -knight?"

  "Maxson stripped of her rank, sir. Accused her of conspiring against the Brotherhood. On her end, she maintains her innocence." The scribe shrugged. "I don't understand why he doesn't just exile her or have her stand trial, but he's been dragging his feet the whole-"

  " Bait ." Danse realized. "He's been waiting for me to come back for her, of course . She's our only way into the Institute. Either that or he just wants the satisfaction of killing me himself." He moved past the checkpoint without another word, leaving the scribe to sputter. Danse hoped he wasn't being too self-absorbed when he surmised that the report of his 'death' was no doubt being utilized as a thumbscrew on Elizabeth. Maxson obviously needed a confession; hell, he might even suspect Vega of being the one that tipped Danse off in the first place. 

  No one paid him much mind as he strode across the compound. Though he did intercept a few curious glances, Danse chalked them up to the distinctive armor he was wearing instead of outright suspicion. 

  "Where is the elder?" He gruffed at a crowd of aspirants, counting on the staticky speakers of his helmet to disguise his voice. One of them grimaced.

  "In a mood." She joked, the group of aspirants nodding and laughing amongst themselves. "But if you mean location, he's been hanging around the build site a lot. Watching the progress on Big Lib, you know."

  Danse inclined his head and turned on his heel, making a beeline for the previously-mentioned location while he guiltily recalled the time that he had threatened Vega with an upbraiding for her own quips about Maxson. As he thundered back across the courtyard, he could hear the muttering start up. People were beginning to notice him. His window of opportunity was shrinking; he needed to find Maxson fast . Danse picked up his pace, half-jogging.

  Catching sight of Maxson at the very top of Prime's gantry made Danse feel minute, an insignificant David at the feet of a giant. He swallowed hard, shaking off the unsettling sensation and cueing up his helmet's speakers.

  At the whine of feedback, Ingram glanced up from her console beneath the shelter across the dusty tarmac. "Hey!" She said sharply. "Whoever you are, you don't have clearance to-"

  " Elder Maxson! " Danse roared, ignoring the red-headed proctor in favor of tilting his whole body back to project his voice upwards. " You know why I'm here! "

  " Abomination! " Maxson shouted, sounding almost gleeful . He bolted for the lift, as if he expected Danse to flee. The paladin stood his ground though, patiently waiting for the elder to arrive at the lower level.

  "Danse? You…" Ingram trailed off, scrambling across the square. "Is it really you in there, Danse?"

  "Yes, Proctor." 

  There was so much more he wanted to say, so much more to explain , but Maxson's arrival on the ground effectively cut off Danse's conversation. "I knew you would return, you traitor ." He asserted smugly as he marched over to Danse. "How kind of you to give me the privilege of ending you myself ."

  Danse held up his hands peaceably. "I am unarmed, Maxson. I'm not here for a fight. I am simply here to request the amicable release of...of General Vega." He used the Minutemen title on a whim, watching Arthur's nostrils flare in irritation.

  "Oh General Vega , is it? The Minutemen send a machine to do their dirty work? Or have you already infiltrated their ranks with more of your kind?" Maxson spat. 

  Danse shook his head. "This may come as a shock to you, Elder Maxson, but I had no idea I was a synth." He heard Ingram gasp behind him. Even Maxson looked momentarily startled at his admission and Danse seized the opening to reason, "through the entirety of my career I've done nothing to betray your trust, Arthur. And I never will. Please," Danse implored, "we need General Vega if we hope to eradicate the Institute."

  "You expect me to believe that you wish to eradicate the Institute? You were born of it!" Arthur spat venomously. "You even standing here is an affront to nature, you scum . The Brotherhood does not negotiate with-"

  "Elder Maxson, wait!" Ingram interrupted him sharply. "He's telling the truth. Vega is instrumental to gaining entry to the Institute. Our whole reason for being in the Commonwealth is to destroy the Institute. If we lose this chance-"

  "I will not be spoken down to by my own troops, Proctor!" Maxson raged. 

  "Arthur, listen to me . You and Danse having a pissing match should be the least of our concerns." Ingram raised an eyebrow. "If he meant us harm, I feel like he would have come with a battalion or two. Danse might be a little dense , but he's never lacked battlefield intelligence."

  "This thing isn't Danse, so stop referring to it as such!" 

  "Until proven otherwise, yes, he is . His DNA matched that Institute crap. It's him, Maxson. It's always been him. Sure, you might find it easier to think that the Institute grabbed the real Danse while he was out and about, but I don't think he would be reported as a missing asset if he was supposed to be here." Proctor Ingram theorized as she crossed her arms, her armor frame creaking. 

  "Just give me Elizabeth, Maxson." Danse pleaded. "This isn't a fight you want."

  "Oh, on the contrary. This is the fight I want." Maxson seethed. "A chance to prove Brotherhood superiority once and for all! We will settle this as it is written in the Litany!"

  "You sincerely wish to have a live-fire trial?" Danse asked incredulously, "a Litany trial, Arthur? As I recall, you stated before that you were above such practices."

  "We live in unprecedented times, traitor." Maxson drew himself up to his full height. "My authority has been brought into question again and again. It seems only right that I battle my chief dissenter."

  Danse was at a loss for words. Maxson's behavior was so irrational, he was almost tempted to consider whether the elder himself had been replaced by a synth. But no, voicing that fear would no doubt send Maxson into an even worse froth.

  "When I defeat you, it will finally affirm the truth of the Brotherhood: that we were meant to stand tall atop the corpses of abominations, meant to triumph! " Maxson's eyes were wild as he turned to Ingram. "Proctor, you will bear witness to our Litany agreement. And now, abomination , issue your challenge." The elder demanded.

  "Arthur-"

  " Issue it or be slagged where you stand! " Maxson screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

  Danse had never personally engaged in a Litany trial. His memory of the terminology was hazy at best, but he still made an attempt. "As a Brotherhood of Steel paladin," he began haltingly, saluting and then extending his hand to Maxson. "I am issuing a formal challenge against your authority as elder of this chapter. Through your actions and your deeds, you have proved yourself unfit to lead in my eyes. We will engage in combat under your terms, and should I emerge victorious, I ask that you relinquish General Vega to me."

  "And when I emerge victorious, I will kill you." Maxson stated confidently. 

  "So be it." Danse knew he had very little agency in this matter. Maxson wanted to fight him, and Maxson always got his way. "Your terms, Elder?"

  "No weapons or armor. We fight with nothing but the skills we possess. The first one pushed out of the circle loses." Maxson smirked. "You might be a synth, but a bullet in your head puts you down just as easily as any feral."

  "You give me your word as Elder that you will turn Vega over to the custody of the Minutemen if I win?" Danse insisted, his heart slamming in his chest. Oh God, he would have to fight Maxson. Worse still, he would have to beat him. Arthur's prowess in combat was almost fabled , that story about the deathclaw part of this chapter's mythos.

  "I will give you nothing, creature , and it will be far more than you deserve. But certainly, if you manage to beat me, I'll see to it that your co-conspirator is relinquished to your care." Maxson sneered. "Proctor, send out the announcement that we will have entertainment shortly."

  "Sure thing, Elder." Ingram muttered, sidestepping away as Danse removed his helmet. 

  "I want everyone down here and watching, Ingram!" Arthur called as she departed. "Make sure that traitor Vega is escorted to the combat area." He then chuckled in a self-satisfied manner, no doubt taking note of Danse's stern expression. "Oh don't worry, synth . We showed your precious general all the courtesies that the Brotherhood has to offer while we interrogated her."

  Danse knew that Arthur trying to rile him up was technically a good sign. It meant that the other man was attempting to disperse some of his own nerves. However, it was difficult for him to capitalize upon with the worry of Vega possibly being injured getting added onto the pile of Danse's concerns. The growl erupted from him unintentionally, burring in his chest like a hacksaw. "Maxson, if you-"

  "Do not speak to me, freak ." Arthur hissed.

  Danse stewed as a crowd began to form. At least now they would have an audience. Hundreds of eyes watching his every move, but also watching Maxson's. Danse hoped that the scribe at the gate hadn't just been spouting optimistic nonsense. 

  The paladin emerged from his armor, standing at attention beside the frame as a vertibird whirred by overhead, descending from the Prydwen. Upon their first sight of him, the troops began talking amongst themselves. Danse reasoned that it must be quite the shock for most of them, to see him alive and well. 

  Please be alright, Vega , the paladin begged mentally. Please , Elizabeth .

  He heard her coming long before he saw her, watching the crowd part for a lone knight in power armor. "You're a fuckin' piezashet , y'know that? Just a fuckin' asshole! " Backhand roared, struggling and straining against the iron grip of the knight that was dragging her along. "Let me go , y' fuckin' cockass'n sunuva' fuck! "

  Danse blinked, a bit impressed with the vitriol the general was spitting considering her appearance. She looked like a stretch of bad road, gaunt, both of her eyes ringed yellow-green from faded bruising and her glasses absent. The whole left side of her face bore the distinct grate marks of the Prydwen's catwalks, indicating that she had been slammed against the floor. Her Vault suit was in shambles, half-ribboned and hanging off of her shoulder at a rakish angle, and her hair was a tangled, greasy mess.

  Danse catalogued it all and swiftly tucked it away for later. Compartmentalize . She's alive and ambulatory. Priority is Maxson , he instructed himself sternly. Focus . You can't afford to be distracted right now. You face the elder of the Brotherhood of Steel .

  All of that flew out the window the moment he heard Elizabeth's voice crack. "D... Danse? " She asked tremulously, "Danse, you're alive? "

  Danse nodded, not looking at her. "For better or for worse, I am."

  "I…" Backhand paused. "What's going on, Danse? I-I thought that...I thought you were…"

  Her obvious distress gave Danse an odd rush of guilty comfort. She would have missed him. Had she mourned him when she thought he was dead?

  To hell with it . 

  Danse turned to Elizabeth, carefully tipped her chin up and pressed a corner of the bandanna around his neck to her lips. "For luck." He murmured with a thin smile, cupping the right side of her face so he didn't hurt her. She just stared up at him, those eyes bright with pent-up emotions. The knight securing her coughed awkwardly and Danse stepped back, feeling Vega's gaze on him even as he moved to face Maxson.

  Ingram cleared her throat and announced above the rising hubbub, "this is a Litany trial! The conditions are no weapons or armor, strictly empty-handed combat. If Paladin Danse manages to remove our elder from the circle, the Brotherhood has agreed to release the former Knight Vega into Minutemen custody. If our elder removes the paladin from the circle, Paladin Danse has agreed to allow the elder to pass swift judgement upon him."

  "Say it how he said it, Proctor!" Danse barked, his deep voice carrying well. "He plans to kill me if he wins, don't shy away from it!" He heard Vega swear before the crowd of knights, aspirants and squires around him voiced their mixture of dismay and apprehension. "Elder Maxson has deemed me a threat to the Brotherhood and has forced my hand. So now we engage in a combat trial as it is written in the Litany."

  "Trying to turn my troops against me, abomination?" Maxson huffed as he discarded his heavy battle coat and began rolling up his sleeves. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I am disappointed. I had hoped you would meet your end with some shred of dignity."

  Danse shrugged, Backhand's lucky bandanna brushing his chin when he raised his head. "You haven't won yet, Maxson." He reminded the younger man with a sad smile.

  Arthur lunged at him suddenly, dust flying with the speed of his approach. Danse barely managed to sidestep, latching on to Arthur's wrist and shoulder. The paladin used the other man's momentum against him, redirecting him around his body and kicking his legs out from beneath him.

  "Are we beginning now, Arthur?" He asked sharply, that tactical portion of his brain considering the merits of stomping down on Maxson's groin with all his might.

  But no, no, he couldn't--Maxson was the elder -

  Arthur flailed on the ground, his face red with fury as he clawed at Danse's hands on him. The paladin released him and stepped back, not overly eager to stay within striking distance of the formidable elder. Unfortunately, Maxson didn't leave him much of a choice in the matter. The younger man darted forward again, too low for Danse to redirect him. The paladin took the brunt of Arthur's shoulder to his midsection, gasping out a pained breath even as he tried to brace his footing. 

  Arthur's shoulder drove deeper into his stomach and the younger man grappled Danse's legs, heaving him backwards off the ground . Danse frantically grabbed at Maxson's back before the younger man pinned him bodily, the two of them hitting the gravel with a bone-jarring impact. 

  Danse still hadn't been able to catch his breath and he barely got his arms up in time as Arthur cocked back for his first punch.

  Maxson tended to machine-gun when it came to his blows, pummeling his target to a pulp within the first flurry. Danse had watched him fight enough to know that this was possibly the worst position for him to be in. Here, Maxson could just rain attacks down onto him until his damn arms broke, beat him into submission without even having to get him outside the boundaries. "You will die. In the dirt . Like the dog you are!" Maxson screamed as he struck Danse. 

  He's the elder. He's the elder. But...

  Danse gritted his teeth. No . If Maxson was doing to kill him, he was going to work for it. Danse wouldn't hand him his fragile existence on a silver platter. Not anymore. Never again . Every assault, every misguided order, every time his admiration or willingness to help had been taken advantage of…

  Danse sucked in a breath and shoved Maxson in the chest with all his might, knocking the other man off of him. " Fuck you Arthur! " He spat, suddenly red-hot angry . He got to his feet and loomed over the elder of the Brotherhood, smoldering with rage.

  Maxson seemed confused, like he couldn't believe Danse was actually fighting back . He scrambled back to an upright position, the two of them circling each other much more warily now. 

  "You should have just laid down and died like a good soldier!" Maxson taunted, feinting a few jabs on the left before he swung in from the right. His fist caught Danse in the jaw, snapping the older man's head to the side as he continued, "should have just let me break you, Danse!"

  Danse, reeling from the hit, staggered back a step and dropped to one knee. No, get up . Don't let him do this to you . He forced himself back up, glancing the next punishing blow off his shoulder and then landing a check of his own that sent Maxson sprawling on his back. 

  "Get up, Arthur!" Danse shouted, his fists clenched. " Get the fuck up and fight me! "

  So fast Danse almost missed it, Arthur whipped his combat knife out of his boot sheath and rushed him with it, holding the blade low in an effort to conceal the weapon.

  The blade that killed the deathclaw . 

  The point barely grazed Danse's arm as he flinched back, razor-sharp steel easily parting the flannel and skin beneath it. 

  He was in trouble now. Maxson unarmed was bad enough, but Maxson using a weapon he was intimately familiar with absolutely spelled certain death for Danse. Never mind that they had agreed on no weapons. Danse doubted anyone was exactly refereeing a Litany trial. As long as they stayed within the circle, he was under the impression that he was on his own.

  Arthur slashed wildly at him, no longer bothering for subtlety as he openly attacked Danse with the knife. Maxson had this hideous, leering smirk on his face the whole time; he was playing with his food. 

  Danse felt like an idiot for even thinking that he had a chance at winning when Maxson buried the blade in his shoulder.

  But what else could he do? Die in the dirt , like Arthur had screamed at him?

  " You're a cheating sunuvabitch, Arthur! " Vega's voice rang out loud and clear like the crack of a whip. Danse saw her out of the corner of his eye, the woman struggling vainly against the armored vambrace that encircled her waist. " Coward! " She yelled indignantly.

  Danse smiled thinly through the pain, gripping Maxson's wrist on the knife with enough force to make Arthur grunt. His free hand clamped down on the crook of Maxson's elbow, keeping the younger man locked in that position. Maxson headbutted him to try and make some space and Danse slammed their heads together harder, baring his teeth and snarling in Arthur's face. 

  Between the two of them, Arthur would always be smarter and quicker than Danse. 

  But Danse was stronger . Danse thrived in the trenches and on the front lines. Maxson may have called him a dog as an insult, yet there was truth in his words. Danse was a bulldog , boots on the ground, chewing for the jugular until the day he died. This wasn't his first time fighting for his life against insurmountable odds and he was finally refusing to roll over for Arthur.

  Something flashed in Maxson's eyes for a split-second and Danse latched onto it. "You're afraid of me, aren't you Maxson?" He panted, maintaining his death grip as Arthur began to struggle to free himself. "Of what I could do to your leadership, your elder status-"

  " Shut the fuck up!" Maxson seethed, the palm of his free hand crashing into Danse's throat. The paladin stumbled back and dropped to the ground, his lungs screaming for air as the blade tore loose. Maxson, instead of just finishing him off, began to pontificate, watching Danse writhe and hack for air in the dirt. "You know Danse, I saw what you had with Cutler and I envied it. I searched for years , trying to find something like it. I failed, naturally. So the only solution was to get Cutler out of the picture. But you were stubborn . You longed for a dead man, entirely ignoring the needs of your leader!" Maxson hissed, grinding the heel of his boot against the wound on Danse's shoulder. "And if I couldn't have you wholly, I would break you."

  Danse knew on a technical level that the wound should hurt. His face automatically winced. But all he could focus on was Arthur's words, his confession . The heel of the elder's boot, already sticky with blood, crushed down on the side of Danse's head next. 

  "Why so quiet now, Danse? Do I behave like a man who fears you, freak? " Maxson mocked him, delivering one last kick before backing away.

  Danse laid there in the gravel, bruised, bleeding; dazed not just by pain but by the knowledge that Maxson had sent Cutler away on purpose. Maxson had sent Cutler to his death. Sent Brandis to his death. Sent Danse to his death.

  " Well , synth? For being so confident, you are remarkably silent!" Arthur needled. "Where's all that righteous wrath you threatened me with? I wanted a fight! "

  Danse noticed dimly that the crowd was entirely still around them. It was eerie, like everyone else had vanished and it was just he and Arthur.

  Danse raised his left arm, the whole limb shaking violently, and he curled his fingers to flip Maxson off.

  The crowd's judgemental silence dissolved into laughter and rowdy shouts, both for and against the paladin. He vaguely picked up Vega yelling, " Attaboy! "

  Arthur sputtered with fury. He leaped at Danse, no doubt enraged enough to slit his throat. All Danse could think to do was hike his knees up, planting them firmly in Maxson's pelvis and then catapulting the smaller man up and over his body. Maxson landed several feet away on his back, giving a pained grunt as the wind was knocked out of him by the impact. 

  The knife clattered and skidded through the dirt and gravel, out of reach for the moment. Danse floundered to roll over, trying to keep the distance between himself and Arthur while the dust settled. When it did, though, he realized something. 

  Arthur's entire body was outside the circle. 

  Danse blinked, eyes wide as he realized that not only did that mean he had won, that meant Arthur had lost. In front of everyone .

  " Freak! " Maxson shrieked, staggering back to his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at the wounded paladin. "At least Cutler had the good sense to get himself killed , unlike you and fucking Brandis! " The elder screamed, blood and saliva flying from his mouth. "You two are like goddamn radroaches! "

  "Elder Maxson?" Rhys . He sounded so hesitant, so unlike himself. "Sir, did you...did you send our squad out here purposely? "

  "It is not your place to question me, Knight! And don't act like Danse didn't tell you as much, I'm certain he wasted no time vilifying me upon your arrival to the Commonwealth!" Maxson spat ruthlessly. "Traitorous liar! "

  "I'm afraid the paladin may have been too preoccupied with keeping his squadron alive to convey any personal irritation regarding you , sir." Haylen said dryly. "Perhaps you can fill us in on what we might have missed?"

  Maxson, instead of answering, threw himself back at Danse. 

  …

  Danse hit the ground with Maxson on top of him and Backhand screamed something abusive that was extremely unflattering to the elder's lineage.

  Arthur grabbed Danse by the collar of his worn shirt and slammed the back of his head against the ground, the elder appearing to snap as he howled with rage and punched Danse again and again and again -

  Vega's fists clenched in her binds and she struggled futilely against the knight holding her, willing Danse to fight back, to do something , don't die on me!

  Suddenly a huge gauntlet was seizing Maxson by the seat of his pants, tossing the young man off to the side. 

  "That is enough ." Brandis, Brandis , how had he even gotten there?! Backhand had last seen him in the bowels of the Prydwen as she was being led out from the cell! The elderly paladin stood tall over the two bedraggled men in the dirt, cracking his knuckles in his gauntlets. "What is the meaning of this, Maxson?" He asked furiously, tone sharp through the speakers of his helmet. "You would disgrace trial by combat in such a manner? How dare you! You bring shame upon the Litany!"

  "Stay out of my way, you meddling old fool!" Maxson ordered, getting shakily to his feet.

  "Or what, you'll beat me to a pulp as well?" Brandis retorted. "You've turned against your troops, Arthur, the men and women you swore to lead with integrity. You've freely admitted to sending soldiers to their deaths because it suited you , not the needs of the Brotherhood. You've brought nothing but disgrace to our chapter, Arthur! Look around you! " Brandis exclaimed, gesturing at the crowd. "You're a tyrant , Maxson! Not one amongst the ranks would stand up to you, not one would shake you back to reality, and those that tried are now lying in the damn dirt ."

  "Be quiet! "

  "You cannot silence me, Maxson." The old paladin said calmly. "You've tried and failed before."

  "What would you have me do, Brandis? He's a synth ." 

  "Perhaps." Brandis allowed. "But all I see is a man who obeyed your stipulations and threw you out of your circle, Maxson. According to our tenets and the Litany, his requests must be met. Release Vega to his custody."

  Maxson snarled futilely. "You will regret crossing me, Brandis!" He warned. "Stand down now! "

  "I have no squadron left for you to kill, Elder ." The older paladin scoffed a little. "What will you hold over my head? Retirement?" He tipped his helmet towards the knight who had Vega. "I said, release her ."

  The knight who had been holding Backhand let her go with a mumbled apology, and without any hesitation she took off at a dead run for Danse. Her whole body ached from the heavy-handed treatment Maxson had inflicted on her, but in the light of getting Danse back it was an easy burden to bear.

  She tumbled to her knees, her hands still bound in front of her as she called his name. He groaned in reply, grimacing when she touched his arm. "Danse, holy shit ." Backhand breathed. 

  The paladin exhaled a broken laugh, barely opening his eyes. "Did I win?" He asked blearily. "Everything is spinning."

  Backhand couldn't help the sob that escaped her as Danse pawed blindly at her bound hands, the young woman opening her mouth to say something. 

  There was a commotion behind her, Brandis shouting " no Maxson! " and then a gunshot. Backhand froze as a plume of dirt kicked up bare inches from Danse's head, the paladin jerking away from the impact. 

  She pitched herself forward, bridging Danse's form with her own by propping her weight up on her elbows. "Don't move, Danse." She whispered, "I've got you, okay? If he wants to shoot you he's gonna' have to get through me ."

  "Don't try to--Vega, I order you to get out of the way! How dare you defy me!" Maxson struggled against Brandis' attempts to take the service pistol from him, waving the gun wildly in the air. " Traitors! Let the synth meet its fate!"

  "Vega, you need to... Elizabeth , he'll shoot you, please -" Danse begged, weakly shoving at her side. "The Brotherhood needs-"

  " Fuck the Brotherhood, Danse!" Backhand yelled at him. "If this is how they treat you , someone who's spent his entire career fighting for their cause, then I don't want shit to do with them!"

  The report of the service pistol cut through the air once more, and Backhand's body collapsed on top of Danse.

Part Sixteen

#spoilers #fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #Eventual romance #canon-typical violence #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #fo4 paladin danse #elder maxson #brotherhood of steel

[dettiot]

Fic: late-night interruption 11/11

late-night interruption Author: dettiot Rating: G  Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic.

Also available on AO3.

XXX

How many times had she been here? How many times had she risen to her feet and looked out over the hundreds of pods, seeing thousands of beings from across the galaxy? And had she ever been as tired as she was now, only a day removed from childbirth?

Padmé wasn’t sure of the answers. And her reserves of hope were nearly exhausted. Yet as she looked out at her fellow Senators, she found herself hoping once again. 

The Senate Building was home to the galaxy’s legislators, reflecting a diversity that was breath-taking. Not just simply in the variety of species, but in their mindsets, their cultures, their attitudes. Yet they were all united in leading the galaxy. Many for humanitarian reasons, some for selfish ones--but all gathered together, striving to benefit their planets, their systems, their galaxy according to their own instincts and opinions. 

Striving to settle her nerves and gather all her strength, Padmé wondered what the future would hold for her. Soon, her marriage to Anakin and the birth of the twins would be public knowledge. She didn’t know how Queen Apailana would react. It was quite possible Padmé would have to step down. After eight years as Naboo’s queen and five as its senator, how would she handle being a private citizen again? 

Padmé didn’t know. Yet she felt like she was ready to find out. Because at least she would have Anakin and the twins by her side. 

But before she could answer that question, there was the matter at hand. Bo-Katan was sitting with Bail and the rest of Alderaan’s delegation, ready to speak to the full Senate. After that, Bail would be making the proposal for an investigation into the clone army. But Padmé would open the debate. 

This might be the most important speech of her career. If it was to be the last one, she wanted it to matter. 

Looking around, she couldn’t help searching for the Kaminoans. Her heart sank slightly when she saw their pod sitting empty. She had hoped they would be here today. But perhaps Senator Burtoni had needed to return home or simply wasn’t attending today’s session. 

A soft chime rang out through the chambers, announcing the arrival of the Vice-Chancellor. Mas Amedda stepped into his pod and used the controls to move into the center of the arena. A deeper chime sounded before Mas Amedda spoke.

“Welcome, Senators. Let us begin.”

Without any hesitation, Padmé stood up and punched the button on her control pad to untether her pod. “Vice-Chancellor!”

“The chair recognizes the Senator from Naboo,” Amedda said, sounding resigned. 

“Thank you. Senators, aides, guests: I come before you with news that is critical to the safety and future of the Republic,” Padmé began, having no need to look at the notes on her datapad. “It concerns our clone army, and how we have all been misled--the Jedi, the Senate, the very clones themselves--about their nature.”

She paused, letting her eyes sweep around the Senate. So far, everyone was giving the appearance of listening. She knew, all too well, that appearances were deceiving in the Senate. But she knew her next words would make everyone start paying attention. 

“Intelligence has been shared with myself and a select group of Senators and Jedi, indicating that all clones have a control chip implanted in their brains. A chip, created for an unknown purpose and ordered to be implanted by an unknown individual, designed to force our loyal clone troopers to act against their own instincts and desires.”

A stir went through the entire Senate, the rumbling of several quiet conversations breaking out. 

Orn Free Ta of Ryloth was the first to call out, “You must have proof for your accusations!”

“I do,” Padmé said, staring with disdain at the Senator from Ryloth. “Here to present that proof is Lady Bo-Katan of House Kryze, the rightful ruler of Mandalore.”

As she sat down, Padmé looked towards the Alderaan pod and noticed a hooded figure there. She couldn’t help smiling: of course Satine wouldn’t stay away in this moment. 

After the Vice-Chancellor called for quiet, overriding objections to Bo-Katan speaking when her position had not been recognized by even her own people, Bo-Katan looked around the Senate Chamber. With her helmet tucked under her arm as usual, she stood out among the thousands of beings present. 

In a ringing voice, Bo-Katan laid out the information she had presented earlier today in Padmé’s apartment. Since she already knew the details, Padmé watched the Senators as Bo-Katan spoke, gauging their reactions and observing who might support Bail’s proposal and who would be against it. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a stirring in one pod and turned her head slightly. Her mouth nearly dropped open when she saw the Kaminoan senator enter her pod, her normally milky white skin marked by red blotches on her neck. 

What could have caused those marks? And had the Kaminoan senator appeared in order to join the debate? And would she refute or support Bo-Katan’s information?

As soon as Bo-Katan finished, several senators called for recognition from the chair. As Padmé expected, Amedda made sure to call mostly on those senators who were either hawks on the war or who supported the Chancellor no matter what. 

The amount of not-so-polite scoffing, the lack of balance, made Padmé’s heart sink. Would Bail even be allowed to make his proposal?

“Vice-Chancellor, I demand to speak.” 

“The chair recognizes the Senator from Kamino,” Amedda said, causing a wave of movement as all heads turned towards the Kamino pod, drifting into the center of the chamber. All eyes focused on Senator Burtoni as she slowly stood up in her pod. 

“Gentlebeings, I have heard much today,” the senator began. “I wish to offer evidence that is missing from the account provided by Lady Kryze.”

The senator paused and Padmé wondered what she was going to say. Normally, Kamino was a solid supporter of the Chancellor and the war. It was natural, as their planet’s fortunes had been made by creating the clone army. Yet Padmé had a feeling that something unusual was about to happen. 

“I regret to inform you that Kamino has long been aware of the control chip residing in the clones. And what is more, I have been instructed by my government to reveal who ordered the control chips to be implanted and can trigger the clones to follow only his orders.”

It was like the entire Senate drew in its breath, hanging on every word Senator Burtoni said. She paused and lifted her hand to her neck, strong emotion visible on her face. 

“We offer this evidence in order to show that Kamino desires neutrality. We only wish to continue our business operations, improving our techniques to create beings to specification,” the Senator insisted. “Whatever rights the Senate wishes to grant clones is a purely Republic matter, but Kamino supports such efforts. This is why we are rejecting the attempts at control made by he who ordered the control chips, he who has control of the clones: the Supreme Chancellor.”

Padmé stared at Senator Burtoni, not sure she had heard her correctly. Had she said the Supreme Chancellor was the one to order the chips to be implanted? The one who was in control of the clones? 

After a long moment of silence, the chamber erupted, senators rising to their feet and yelling and shaking their fists. 

Mas Amedda shouted for quiet, but it was no good. Everyone was too shocked to listen--until Bail maneuvered his pod into the center of the chamber. 

“Senators! Senators!” he said, his voice booming. “I have a motion!” 

Faintly, Amedda tried to order the session adjourned, but Bail ignored him. “Alderaan moves that the Chancellor’s powers are removed until he is questioned about these allegations!” 

At that, the Senators seemed to unite, in a way Padmé had never seen before. For once, shock had mobilized the Senate’s members, instead of paralyzing them. As awful as the circumstances, she felt a rush of hope. 

Was it so simple that the Chancellor, the man she had grown to distrust so thoroughly, was the one responsible for the Republic spiraling into darkness over the last ten years? And could it be that the Senate was finally breaking free of his darkness? 

Whether this was a permanent change, one that she would get to enjoy for years to come or only for this moment, Padme felt an immense swelling of relief. Especially when the Galactic Senate moved to strip Sheev Palpatine of his powers as Supreme Chancellor and for him to be placed under arrest. 

XXX

Ever since he had begun training with his master, Darth Sidious had never been surprised or faced unexpected situations. He possessed a particular strength in the Force, a special ability allowing him to see the sequence of events from every action. This talent was how he had created his grand plan to control the entire galaxy. And over the last twenty years, nothing happened that he had not accounted for. 

Yet . . . something was happening. Something that threatened all his designs. Something that could throw his perfect schedule in doubt.

Closing his eyes, Sidious stretched out his senses. There was a whirlpool of anger and shock from the Senate, but he brushed that aside--it wasn’t strong enough for the turmoil he felt. 

No . . . it was the Jedi Temple. That was where the swirling currents of the Force were centered.  

He had always planned on the Jedi realizing his true identity, finally seeing past his mask as the kindly Chancellor and beholding Darth Sidious. It would seem that time had come--not when he had planned for it, but it was close enough. Which meant it was time for one of the last steps before he gained control. 

At the thought, he allowed himself a quiet chuckle of satisfaction. Really, the Jedi were nothing for him to be concerned about. They were weak, hidebound, fearful. Soon, they would be wiped out. 

They were approaching--he could feel them. 

Smoothing down his robes, Darth Sidious assumed his Chancellor Palpatine mask to greet the Jedi. 

First to enter his office was Mace Windu, all prickly with suspicion and doubt. He was followed by a handful of other Jedi, beneath his notice. Palpatine had never bothered to learn their names. 

And then, bringing up the rear, just as he expected, was his future apprentice, the one who was key to his plans. It was all he could do not to show his glee at the presence of Anakin Skywalker. 

“Master Jedi, what an unexpected pleasure,” Palpatine said, his voice silky and reassuring. “To what do I owe this honor?” 

Windu plucked his lightsaber from his belt. “Sheev Palpatine, you are hereby removed from the office of Chancellor until such time as allegations which have been lodged against you have been fully investigated.” 

“Oh, my,” Palpatine said. He paused, wondering if that was laying it on rather too thick, but ah, well. “I don’t understand--what allegations?” 

“That you ordered control chips to be implanted in every member of the Grand Army of the Republic.” 

The voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi nearly made him snarl. No! He could not be here! For Skywalker to become his  apprentice, Kenobi had to be far away at the other end of the galaxy--or else Skywalker, the weak-willed boy that he was, would not be ready to turn his back on his master. 

He needed to stall. Palpatine sank down into his office chair, putting his hand over his heart and acting for all the world like a man utterly shocked. 

“But I had nothing to do with the clone army,” Palpatine said, looking at the Jedi around him. He shouldn’t have sat down--now they were looming over him--he must put them on the defensive. “Surely, if there was anything done to the clones, it was on the orders of Master Sifo-Dyas, when he first dealt with the Kaminoans--” 

“No, Chancellor,” Windu said. “There is evidence against you: clone schematics from the Kaminoans, courtesy of Mandalore. And the testimony of Kamino’s Senator. You are under arrest; you will come with us and no harm will come to you.” 

If he was arrested--with the knowledge the Jedi and the Senate now had about the control chips--there was no way he would be able to spring his trap. Palpatine felt the smallest flicker of concern. For it was time for him to put his plan into action, to install Skywalker as his apprentice and launch his Empire, but everything was not ready. Kenobi’s presence, the Senate realizing its power--they would be problems. 

But with Skywalker by his side, their power would be too great for anything to stand in his way. 

Rising to his feet, Palpatine met Anakin’s eyes. He almost frowned as he took in the boy’s presence. There was a calmness to him, one Palpatine had never felt before. The churning anger and fear, the darkness barely held at bay only by the boy’s light and power--they were gone, leaving only purity and hope and sunshine. 

It was disgusting. 

“No--please, Master Jedi, this is all a misunderstanding,” he said, hoping this was the last time he had to act like such a weak, inconsequential fool. “I know nothing of these allegations--it is a plot by Kamino and Mandalore to weaken the Republic--they must be in league with the Separatists!”

“Chancellor,” Windu said, his lightsaber igniting. “I am duly charged by the Senate to remove you from this place. By force if necessary.” 

“Or by the Force,” one of the other Jedi said, his lip curling at his witticism. 

And with that insult from a weak, arrogant fool, it was time. 

Palpatine was no longer of any use to Darth Sidious. With a flick of his wrist, Sidious brought his lightsaber from the sleeve of his robe and ignited it, allowing the blade to impale the Jedi who thought he was so amusing. 

At once, the two remaining Jedi, as well as Kenobi and Skywalker, brought their lightsabers to the ready, the hum of the blades filling the office. 

“No, I do not think you will remove me,” Sidious said. “Or, more correctly, you will not be able to. Not with the aid of my new apprentice.” 

The tension ratcheted up and Windu pressed forward, his ridiculous purple blade rising towards Sidious. 

“Anakin Skywalker. You will join me, and I will share with you all my knowledge,” Sidious said. “Only I can show you how to defeat death. To save your beloved Padmé.” 

The words hung in the air and Sidious waited. 

And waited. 

And waited some more. 

What was happening? Why did he sense no shock from the Jedi? Why was Anakin not falling apart even as he Fell to the Dark Side? 

Sidious thrust forward with his lightsaber, pushing back one of the Jedi who was attempting to get behind him. “Anakin! Don’t let your wife die as your mother did! Save your child!” he snapped, throwing down his trump card. 

Surely, with the Jedi being aware of his marriage and upcoming offspring, even a dull-witted boy like Anakin would realize joining him was the only way. 

But the Anakin that walked towards him . . . he wasn’t . . . scared?

Tall, imposing, and powerful, Anakin Skywalker paused in front of him and lifted his lightsaber, the blade hovering a hair’s breadth from his neck. “My wife is alive. My children have been born. And the Jedi know all about them.” 

But--no! This was not the way it was supposed to happen!

Anakin gave him a long look. “You’ve failed, Darth Sidious. I’ll never turn to the Dark Side.” He paused, then flashed a cocky, arrogant, amused smirk. “In fact, go kriff yourself.” 

Time seemed to stretch like an elastic cord, the moment lengthening as he took in the strength of Anakin Skywalker. The strength and power and control . . . all lost to him. 

Sidious felt his face twist. He gripped his lightsaber as he drew the Dark Side of the Force to him, arming him. But for once, his control was not up to the challenge he faced. 

Because Anakin was still smirking at him. And he was going to wipe that smirk from his face, he would kill all these Jedi--saving Kenobi for last, making Anakin kill his old master as his first act as Darth Vader. 

And it would be glorious!

“Nooooooo!” Sidious howled as he swung his lightsaber at Anakin’s face while flinging his hand out and sending a Force push against the other Jedi.

The battle began, minds and bodies matched in a conflict for the galaxy. The clashing of blades and grunts of effort rang out through the office as Sidious pressed, feeding off the fear and greed of the entire galaxy. 

And yet, in the back of his mind, Sidious found himself asking if that would be enough against these Jedi. Against a united Kenobi and Skywalker, strong in the Force and in their connection. Against Mace Windu, the best duellist in the Jedi Order.

It had to be! He would not fail now--not when he was so close!

Windu was down--but only injured. The nameless Jedi were dead. That left Kenobi and Anakin, and he could match them--he could--he had already landed blows on each of them--Anakin was favoring his side, blood running down his face--

But Sidious knew he was growing weak, sloppy. He was pushed to his limits, and--and there wasn’t any more darkness to draw more power from. The light was winning! 

And with that, Sidious used his only remaining weapon. He gathered the power within himself and sent a spray of Force-powered lightning towards his opponents. 

He would destroy the Jedi, one way or another!

XXX

She had her duty: to protect Satine and the twins. But right now, as she watched the holonet melt down from the galaxy-shaking news, Ahsoka wished that she could do more. 

Holding the remote, she flipped through the various channels. Even the non-news networks were covering the biggest story ever to hit the galaxy.

Chancellor Palpatine, revealed as a Sith Lord and killed while resisting arrest and attacking a group of Jedi. General Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, seriously wounded during the battle. Bail Organa elected as interim Chancellor, his first action to open diplomatic negotiations with the Separatists. 

It was like waking up one day to find the galaxy had turned itself inside-out. And all Ahsoka could do was sit here and watch it happen.

As soon as Padmé had received word about Anakin being injured, she had left for the Temple, insisting that Ahsoka stay behind to protect the twins and Satine. It had been one of the hardest decisions she had ever made, letting Padmé go with only her Nabooian guards. 

But Padmé--and Anakin--needed to know that the twins were safe. Protected. And Ahsoka knew she would protect Luke and Leia with her life. 

“Ahsoka, please.” 

“Huh?” Ahsoka said, turning to look at Satine. 

The Duchess was pale and drawn, the exhaustion of the past few days heavily weighing on her. She gestured towards the holoscreen. “Please--just pick a channel and stay there.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka said weakly, putting down the remote. “I’m just . . .” 

Ahsoka didn’t need to finish her sentence, because Satine understood. She gave Ahsoka a small smile and patted her shoulder. “I’m sure Anakin will be fine.” 

“I’m sure he will, too--but that doesn’t make waiting any easier,” Ahsoka said. She gave her head a rueful shake and rose to her feet, pacing slowly around the room. “I should meditate, but I don’t want to lose my awareness. Not with you and the twins depending on me.” 

“There is also Bo,” Satine said with a soft chuckle. “My sister is quite a protector.” 

“I know she is,” Ahsoka said. “But the twins--” 

Before Ahsoka could go on, her comm chimed. She snatched it up and answered the call. “Hello?!?” 

The tired, bruised face of Obi-Wan looked absolutely beautiful to her. “Obi-Wan! Is Anakin--is he--” 

“He’s going to be all right,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s in bacta now, and he’ll have some long-term issues, but--but he’s going to survive.” 

Her legs gave out underneath her from the relief. “Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka said, swallowing hard. 

He seemed to understand what she was feeling, because he gave her a soft smile. “It’s going to be okay, Ahsoka.”

She nodded, turning her head and quickly wiping a tear from her eyes. “Y-yeah. Yeah, okay. Here, talk to the Duchess. I--I’m gonna go check on the twins.” 

With that, Ahsoka shoved her comm into Satine’s hand and left the room, heading for the twins’ nursery. 

But first, she took a moment in the hallway to close her eyes and breathe. To center herself and reach out to the Force, feeling how much lighter it was now. Not clouded and dim, but bright and alive, like she hadn’t felt since she was a youngling in the Temple. 

Ahsoka opened her eyes and breathed out slowly. “Thank you,” she said. She wasn’t sure why, only that it felt like the Force deserved thanks for protecting them all from a greater darkness than anyone could have conceived of. 

With her emotions in order, Ahsoka stepped into the nursery and smiled at Sabé, who was rocking in a chair with Leia in her arms. 

“Late-night feeding?” Ahsoka asked, keeping her voice low. 

Sabé nodded. “She’s a hungry one.” 

“I just received word from Master Obi-Wan. Anakin is going to be all right.” 

The former handmaiden looked just as relieved as Ahsoka felt. “Oh, I’m so glad for Padmé. Not to mention for the twins’ sake.” 

Nodding, Ahsoka found herself walking over to the crib and looking down at Luke. He was asleep, one chubby fist in his mouth as he drooled. Ahsoka smiled and looked back at Sabé. “They’re pretty cute.” 

With a soft chuckle, Sabé nodded. “They are. Even in the middle of the night.” 

Ahsoka watched as Sabé stood up, gently cradling Leia, before setting her down in the crib next to her brother. She gently passed her fingers over Leia’s forehead in the shape of a crescent, then did the same for Luke. 

“To think, with everything that’s happened, these two arrived at just the right time,” Ahsoka said. She had seen how much stronger Anakin was with having his babies healthy and alive, with seeing Padme safe and strong. 

Could that have been the difference in his fight with Chancellor Palpatine--with Darth Sidious? Or was it having Obi-Wan by his side? 

They would probably never know, Ahsoka thought as her eyes fell on Luke again. Feeling the bond between them, the promise of a relationship like what she used to have with Anakin. The bond between a Master and a Padawan. 

“I’m not religious at all, but--but it does make you feel like there is something greater at work,” Sabé said quietly. 

“I know,” Ahsoka said, reaching out again and feeling that thrum from the Force, so alive and bright. 

Sabé looked at Ahsoka and smiled. “Come, I’ll make you some caff. I think we’re all going to be up for a while. I feel like a nocturnal creature lately, being awake at night and sleeping during the day.” 

“Thanks to the twins?” Ahsoka asked as she followed Sabé. 

“Yes. But really, I should have known. Because this all started with one late-night holo call,” Sabé said, beginning to tell Ahsoka the story as they walked to the kitchen.

End.

Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who's read this story, commenting and leaving kudos and bookmarking it! I had a lot of fun allowing the story to unfold in unexpected ways and I hope you've enjoyed it!

I do have thoughts about an epilogue, focusing on Obi-Wan and Anakin reacting to the events of this last chapter, but it might be a little while before I'm able to get that out. So for now, this story is complete--I was so glad to have all of you along on the journey!

#anidala #obitine #skywalker family #padme amidala #darth sidious #ahsoka tano #star wars #late-night interruption

[amazingdriverfics]

Hey sweetie, can I ask for a Kylo Ren imagine where the reader is dating him? He’s overprotective of her, and tries to keep her to where he could see her. When they were looking for someone to take a mission assignment, she volunteered. Kylo protests about it and it leads to them having a argument and says some hurtful words to her before she left. When the time came for her return, she never did. Kylo grew worried and decided to look for her. He spots the ship she took, now a wreckage site. He

Hey sweetie, can I ask for a Kylo Ren imagine where the reader is dating him? He’s overprotective of her, and tries to keep her to where he could see her. When they were looking for someone to take a mission assignment, she volunteered. Kylo protests about it and it leads to them having a argument and says some hurtful words to her before she left. When the time came for her return, she never did. Kylo grew worried and decided to look for her. He spots the ship she took, now a wreckage site. He saw it was on fire, he rushed towards it, seeing if she was trapped. But when he noticed that she was a few feet away, he rushed to her and saw she had been injured badly. Once the recovery starts, he’s there to take care of her.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I wrote it while listening to The Reason. Sending you tons of love, thank u for the request.

warnings: angst with happy ending, fluff, injury, implied sex. 

The Reason

Walking through the grey halls of the Finalizer rushing to the Intelligence room, you started to think of how much your life had changed since you got to know Kylo, at first the mere sight of him made you shiver, his imposing figure demanding respect and spreading fear into the bodies of everyone standing near him. That was until he noticed you. You were the best at Intelligence Department, you brought in a great amount of resistance members to the First Order and countless informations that guaranteed the success of this organization.

It was the end of your shift, you were walking as fast as you could to the mess hall dying to eat something, you had been hearing your stomach complaints for about two hours now, but you had decided to ignore em’ in order to finish what you were working on. It was a terrible decision, you were starving. And then, you crashed with a huge black figure, falling to the ground.

“Stars, what the fuck are you? A mountain?” you said trying to get back on your feet, cursing the giant in front of you of every bad name you could possibly think. When you managed to stand up and look to the man you crashed into, you frooze, your blood stopped pumping and your face lost all it’s color. “S-Supreme Leader, I’m so-so sorry, I didn’t see it was yo-you”, you whispered facing his terrifying mask.  

Great so this is how I’m going to die, starving after a work day at a corridor in this stupid ship 

“You clearly did not” the mechanic voice reverberated inside of your brain making you even more scared “Or you might have a death wish, I think you need to be taught a lesson”. 

Much to your surprise the night ended at his quarters, he taught you a lesson, but it was the most pleasurable lesson of your life.

That was the start of a series of encounters between you and the Supreme Leader, he would often take you to deserted meeting rooms, computer rooms and his own private quarters. He was an incredible and absolutely gorgeous man, but it was hard for him to open up, so it took about five months for your relationship with Ren to be more than just sexual, you fell for him fast and hard. 

Now everyone in the Finalizer knew you were Kylo’s girl. It was annoying sometimes, you weren’t able to make any new friends, they all feared your lover, and you were constantly being followed by some troopers, Kylo was very protective of you, that’s why you haven’t been outside the ship since you and him started to date. It’s not like you didn’t appreciate his concern, but you missed feeling the breeze making your hair move, the sensation of sun against your skin, the adrenaline of a mission, the high after being successful. However, every time you brought the topic on a conversation with him he quickly said no.  

You got to the  Intelligence Room still in your head, but it wasn’t long before your eyes met a red haired man, taking your thoughts elsewhere.

“General Hux, a pleasure to see you, sir” you said stopping at the door waiting for his command. 

“Thank you, L/N, I was just starting to tell you colleagues about a mission that will take place in Bespin, we need someone to infiltrate among locals and check an information about a Resistance recruiter working in the area” he said, with a monotonous voice and a certain mischief on his eyes. “I was hoping that you could take the job, you are the best at this after all and you haven’t been active in field for almost a year now”. 

“It’s a honor, sir. You can count on me”, excitement started to pump in your veins, you were thrilled, you loved to act as an undercover for the First Order the only problem would be to tell Kylo about it, you weren’t so sure he would understand, but this time you would stand your ground.

“I’m happy to hear that, L/N, we will be leaving at 0800 hours in the next cycle, see you at the hangar” he said making his way out of the room. “Yes, sir”, you answered doing your best to hide the excitement in your voice, but you were certain that you had failed.

Your anxiety increased with the passage of time, you barely touched your lunch and by the time you finished your shift you felt like you were going to die. You took the longest path to Kylo’s quarters, you knew he would feel your anxiety the moment you got closer to it, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to the conversation you were about to have. After a ten minute walk to his place you were finally standing outside the door, you typed the passcode with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” he said, the minute you walked in, getting out of the living room couch and making his way to you “Someone hurt you?”. You shook your head, tears of anxiety falling slowly down your face. “I w-was assigned on a field mission by Hux” you whispered cleaning your face with your hands. 

“I’ll tell him that it is not a option, don’t worry, I won’t let anyone put you at risk, love” he wrapped his arms around you “I missed you” he said into your hair. You shook your head once again, leaving his embrace “You don’t understand, Kylo. I want to go. Don’t get me wrong, I love every single moment I spend with you, but I really love what I do, I miss being undercover, I like the thrill of it, it makes me feel alive”

“That’s not up to discussion, you. are. not. going. End of story” he said with anger dripping from every word. “You are right, Kylo, this is not up to discussion, I am going, I was just letting you know, not asking for permission”, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy but you needed to be firm, to make him understand. 

“You are not going, Y/N, you are weak, you are not capable of it, you are going to fail and then you are going to get hurt. It’s that what you want?” he barked at your face, eyes filled with rage. Every single word was like a punch to your stomach. “You don’t mean this, Kylo, stop being a dick. You’re just scared”.

“Scared? You should be the one terrified, you’re a nobody in this Order, if anything happens to you, no one will remember you.” now the tears were streaming down your face, you couldn’t believe he said that, it seemed that you were back to the day that you bumped into his chest, he was a stranger to you once again.

“Well, if I’m a nobody to this Order, than I’m nothing to you, Supreme Leader” you didn’t wait for a reply, before he could hurt you again you were going back to your quarters, leaving him and his anger behind. As you turned around the hallway you could hear the sound of his lightsaber going through his furniture. 

Kylo overreacted, he knew it, but the thought of losing you killed him on the inside, you were the only good thing in his life, the reason that he got out of bed every morning, why he tried to be a decent person, and he blew his chance, his rage got the best of him. So he made a plan to win you back, Ren was standing at the hangar maskless with a basket full of your favorite things in one hand and with a speech in his head.

 A ship landed there, but it wasn’t the ship you went to Bespin with. He started to panic and make his way to the vehicle. The ramp lowered and there were a great amount of troopers with injuries and covered in dirt. The basket was quickly forgotten on the ground.

You were nowhere to be found, that’s when his eyes met Hux, he quickly made his way to the red haired man, now with dirty clothes and a purple eye. He caught the man by the throat. “Where is she?” Kylo gritted through his teeth. “The ship exploded, and she was nowhere to be found, Supreme Leader” he whispered, having trouble breathing. “Prepare my ship” Ren barked to his subordinates letting Hux fall to the ground “If she is dead, your head will be standing in my quarters walls by the next cycle”. 

His trip to Bespin was quick, his anxiety consumed every single atom of his body, he couldn’t lose you, you couldn’t die knowing that his last words to you were so cruel, he didn’t mean it, he knew you were very much capable of anything but he was so scared, he felt like the little boy he left in the past. When he got to the crash he almost emptied his stomach on the ground, the ship was destroyed, everything was on fire. Fighting against every feeling running through his body he tried to concentrate on finding your signature through the force, when he felt you he almost cried, relief coursed through him.

Your signature was there, it was a week one, which meant you were seriously injured. Without thinking Kylo made his way through the fire, and he saw you, lying on the ground with burns all over your small body, a few feet away from the crash. The following hours were a blur. He saved you and soon you two were back on the Finalizers hangar. He stayed with you in the med bay and threatened every single doctor encouraging them to save you.

 You had had serious burns and broken bones caused by the impact when you were thrown away by the explosion. When you woke up you were in so much pain that all you could do was scream, he held your hand and let you squeeze it as hard as you needed. The treatment was long and hard, Kylo wished that he could take away all of your pain, but even his force healing abilities weren’t developed enough to do that. So he stayed there, by your side, helping you eat, helping you shower, helping you take your medication, talking to you until you slept, holding you tenderly through your nightmares. After two months in the medical bay, you got permission to get back to his quarters, you still had daily appointments to check on your burns and physical therapy to attend.

Walking was still a challenge for you since you broke your pelvis so he carried you there, and covered you with love. Your fight was now long forgotten, he apologised when you were still in the med bay, and it didn’t take you long to forgive him, you could see in his eyes how much he loved you, and his actions didn’t fail to prove that you were right. Ever since the crash Kylo whispered how much he needed you and adored you every single night before you slept. A year after he saved your life Ren asked you to marry him and you didn’t think twice before saying yes.

@originalposter-96

#kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #angst with a happy ending #reader is gender neutral #reader insert #request #originalposter-96 #star wars

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach​

Chapter 9: 14 Men (5)

      After she sat down and Jamie poured everyone a glass of water, Ferdinand Groide began:

        "Mrs. Beauchamp, Jamie, Mr. Fraser, told me that your husband is Dr. Frank Randall. Is that correct?"

(...)

        "As you may also know, I have left my husband. Our marriage had been on paper only for several years. I intend to ask for a divorce, if that's possible from here. But I still have to care about this man's life. I'm a doctor, I took an oath. If I reveal the secrets I have learned... what will you do to him?"

        "What do you mean? What are we going to do with him?"

        "Will you hurt him? I mean, will you let someone hurt him?"

        Ferdinand Groide and Jamie looked at each other in amazement.

        "Mrs. Beauchamp, we're not the Mafia. We don't hire hit men."

        "But you're in Intelligence, Mr. Groide."

        Claire said that sentence with the same calm and objectivity as if she was saying to Jenny:

        "If you put one more egg in the batter, it gets better."

        "And intelligence agencies do these things," she added to her statement with the same objectivity.

        "Well, maybe the CIA or the KGB. Let me answer you this way: In my opinion, a living Frank Randall is far more interesting and valuable to a secret service than a dead Frank Randall."

        "In other words, you guarantee me that the information I give you will not endanger his life."

        Groide and Jamie looked at each other again.

        "Promise me."

        It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, it was a demand, and the words Claire used to make that demand left none of the men unaware that there was no alternative to this bargain for them.

        Groide struck the hand Claire held out to him.

        "You have my word, Mrs. Beauchamp. You don't know me yet and you probably mistrust me. That's only natural. But Jamie, Mr. Fraser, can assure you that I'm a man of my word."

        Claire looked over at Jamie. He nodded.

        "Done."

        She reached for the glass of water that Jamie had put in her hand and emptied it in one gulp.

        Then she began to talk.

"Microphone" by Florian-Media

        "It was in the year 2015, in late November 2015 to be exact."

        "Excuse me, Mrs. Beauchamp," Groide objected, "but we ought to do this properly."

        He removed from his briefcase a device whose rectangular clunkness was reminiscent of an early mobile phone. After placing it in the center of the table, he inserted two small, round microphones attached to longer cables, one pointing at Claire and one pointing at himself. Groide pressed the record button, then he gave the date, time, place, names of those present and, as the reason for the recording, ‘Statement by Dr. Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp’.

        Jamie had to smile. Ferdinand was a friendly person, but he was also a German bureaucrat. Everything had to follow the specific order and everything had to be done 'by the book'. Those Germans. They had rules for everything. They couldn't just have a conversation like that, it had to be a 'statement' and of course it had to be 'recorded'. In this country everything was recorded, either on paper or on tape. And then everything was filed, paginated, numbered and archived. Nothing was lost. They were so damn meticulous, these Germans, but also so damn effective.

        "Please begin with your personal life, Mrs. Beauchamp. Name, birthday, place of birth, family, etc."

        "My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I was born in London on October 20, 1993, the only child of Julia, née Moriston, and Henry Montmorency Beauchamp. My mother was a primary school teacher, my father worked as a statistician for an insurance company. In the winter of 1998 my parents were killed in a car accident. My uncle, Lambert Quentin Beauchamp, was appointed by the authorities as my foster father and guardian. He was my only living relative, my father's only brother. Due to the activities of my uncle, who was an egyptologist and archaeologist, I grew up in England for only a short time, the rest of the time we spend abroad. When I was 16 years old, my uncle returned to England permanently and accepted a professorship at Oxford University. Shortly afterwards I began training as a nurse. Also in Oxford. At the age of 19, I had just completed my education, I met my future husband Franklin Wolverton Randall through my uncle. He also worked in the history department and specialised in Scottish history. At times he worked as an assistant to a professor. We married the following year. My uncle died only a few months later. His health had unfortunately not been the best at the end of his life. When my husband was called to Harvard University's history department, we moved to Boston.

"Oxford" by MarlonRondal        

         Groide nodded. Jamie was sure that nothing Claire had told him so far was new to his friend. Guaranteed, they had checked Claire from the day he requested the visa for her passport. And they had certainly not been idle since then. At "In Vino Veritas" there was a small but very effective group of staff who had certainly dug up everything they could find about the young woman in the past few days.

         "When and how did you learn of your husband's secret activities?"        

         "It was in the year 2015, in late November of that year to be exact. Does the name Jonathan Pollard mean anything to you?"        

         Jamie listened with new interest. Groide just nodded.        

         "Then you know that this man has served thirty years in the United States for espionage. In 2015 he was released on parole and in the American media there was a lot of coverage and discussion for days. I had never heard this man's name before and, to be honest, I didn't care about the whole thing. However, I listened up when my husband spoke about it. It was a Sunday, two days after Pollard was released. I remember the whole thing so well because that day was the day of the terrible accident in that jademine in Myanmar, where 90 people were killed and over 100 people were missing. We had had dinner and then Frank turned on the TV. There was a talk show where the case was discussed. My husband had already started drinking in the afternoon. While Frank was watching the talk show, I thought, ‘My goodness, they're talking about an age-old espionage case and people are dying elsewhere without the media even paying attention.’"        

         Claire reached for her glass, which Jamie had refilled in the meantime, and took a big sip.        

         "I didn't pay much attention to the discussion on TV. But then suddenly Frank started mumbling loudly:       

          'Spy! Spy! Spy! Nonsense! The man was an amateur! What real spy leaves secret documents openly on his desk in the office and his wife was stupid enough to leave a suitcase with secret documents with a neighbour who was in the military himself!’”

        Claire reached for her glass again and drank.        

         "What he said made me furious, so I said to him: 'Oh yes, but you know how a real spy behaves!’ I thought his reaction was terribly arrogant. To my surprise, he then turned down the TV. He came over and sat down with me on the sofa. He looked me in the eyes and grinned. Then he said, ‘Yes, my darling, I know that. The MI5 recruited and trained me while I was still studying at Oxford. Right after they heard I was going to specialise in Scottish history. With my family background and the good connections we had in the military and police through my cousin Jonathan, there were no obstacles.’”

"Books" by MichaelGaida        

         "How did you react to that?"        

         "Well, at first I was stumped. I thought he was just showing-off again. So I replied, ‘Why would the MI5 need an expert in Scottish history?’ He replied, ‘Well, of course you can't imagine, you little fool. Good God, Claire! The Scots want independence and just because last year's referendum went so well, they will not give up. It's their history they're drawing strength from! What do you think will happen if they really gain their independence? It could set off a chain reaction. You know that Prime Minister Cameron announced two years ago that he would hold a referendum on Britain's withdrawal from the EU if he was re-elected in 2015? So? He has been re-elected! Now there must be a referendum. And what if Britain's withdrawal from the EU is carried out but Scotland becomes independent and is then admitted to the EU as a member? Did you ever think about that? This is going to get us in big trouble! Then the EU will continue to stand with two legs on our island! We can't let that happen.’”

         Claire paused for a moment, then she went on:                  "I must have looked at him in wonder and disbelief, because suddenly he stormed out of the living room. I heard him looking for something in his study. When he came back he had a newspaper article in his hand which he held in front of my face. ‘Read it,’ he said to me. ‘Our government takes this danger seriously... and so should you!‘          I took the article and read. It was an article in the International Business Times in July 2015. It reported that the Prime Minister had met with the CEOs of a media company. The purpose of the meeting was allegedly to prevent the broadcast of a TV series about the Scottish Rebellion of 1746 before the referendum on Scottish independence. It seems that a request has been made to postpone the broadcast. I later found on his desk a copy of an article from ‘The Scotsman’, which also covered the subject in detail.”                  Groide and Jamie looked at each other and smiled. Both men nodded, but said nothing.        

         "Frankly," Claire continued, "I hadn't given the matter any thought at all. In the five years before, I had been mainly busy finishing my medical studies and gaining experience as a doctor. You don't have much time to worry about other things. Besides, due to my, well, somewhat non-conformist upbringing, I was never so much confined to one country alone ..."        

         "How is it that despite medical school, your husband still refers to you as..." Groide is looking for words, "intellectually... weaker...?”          "Frank believes that medical school would consist largely of memorizing the contents of textbooks. He thought that people's bodies were somehow all the same and that if you had learned the appropriate forms of treatment, then you could treat them. He never understood the diversity and complexity of the human body and how medical science reacts to it."                   "Did your husband explain his duties for the MI5 to you?"          "When I told him that Scotland's history, and Scotland's ambitions for independence, were well known, he told me not to think so superficially. He said that historians are not only concerned with the past. They can also make predictions about the future to a certain extent, based on their knowledge. I should think about what the clan system had meant and still means to the Scots. Why did the English central government everything to destroy it after the Jacobite uprising of 1746? England should not allow a united counter-power to be formed again in the north of the country. He was probably particularly concerned about this lobby group, One Banner for all Scots, which had formed the year before."

"Scottish Independence" by Emphyrio         Claire was focused on Ferdinand Groide and the recording equipment in front of her. She didn't see Jamie's face become more and more thoughtful.        

         "Mrs. Beauchamp, all this is interesting, but... not very specific."          "At first, I too got to know only general things. It only became more specific later when I did... well, my own... research.                  "You did your own research?"                  Groide suddenly seemed interested again. Jamie tried not to smile. What seemed like a minor revelation to his friend only confirmed what he had been thinking all along. Claire was an intelligent, strong woman. Her strength might have been broken for a time by what her husband had done to her. But Jamie was sure that she would find her way back to that strength. And he vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to help her.          "I thought Frank was a braggart for a long time, but... I can't describe it exactly. Something had caught my interest. Then a colleague asked me if I would trade a weekly shift with her. She would have had a night shift, but her babysitter was unavailable. I agreed and that same afternoon I went to the university library and borrowed books on Scottish history and the independence movement. The department where I was on night duty was not very labour-intensive. I had a lot of time to read and think during the nights of that week."          She paused for a moment.          "After that week, I became aware of the urgency of the issue."          Groide didn't say anything, but his gaze urged her to continue.          "National self-determination. Well, there's no need to explain that further. Scotland's oil. 64% of Europe's oil reserves are on Scottish territory. They're said to be worth 4 trillion pounds. Then there is the issue of renewable energy. I mean Scotland has 25 % of Europe's wind energy potential, 25 % of Europe's tidal energy potential and 10 % of Europe's wave energy potential. I do not have to tell you that these are also enormous financial potentials."          A fine smile appeared on Groide's face.          "And then, of course, there is the question of nuclear disarmament: with control of defence and foreign policy, an independent Scotland could tackle the elimination of Trident nuclear weapons, an issue long associated with the campaign for an independent Scotland. Trident class submarines carrying missiles with 120 nuclear warheads are based at the Clyde naval base near Glasgow. In the event of Scottish independence, England would have to withdraw these weapons and revise its defence strategy. I imagine that would be a thorn in the side of the American allies as well. There will certainly be a lot of diplomatic pressure behind the scenes."          Claire took a deep breath.          "Now you're going to tell me that this is all public information and I would agree with you. But I wasn't aware of it before. These informations woke me up. It took a while but when I had the opportunity to take on another week of night shifts I immediately agreed. In this time I developed a kind of plan. I was eager to find out if Frank's statement was true. At first I tried to track when he was going to conferences or work meetings. Not all of them, but several of them took him to England and Scotland. I can't prove it, but I had the impression that his travels became more frequent at times when 'the Scottish theme' was boiling up. Later, after 2015, and particularly after the brexite, his travels intensified.”          To Jamie's surprise, Claire reached into her handbag, which she had hung on the back of her chair, and pulled out a piece of paper she handed over to Ferdinand Groide.

"Tea" by Pexels          "This is a list of all the trips my husband has taken since 2013. supposedly for reasons of his work as a historian."          Groide skimmed the list, then put it aside.          "Thank you very much. We will try to verify the data."          "In the weeks that followed, I voluntarily took several weeks of night duty. Because there was another advantage to this. I was at home while my husband was at university and could look through his records almost undisturbed."        

         "Will you share the knowledge you have gained from this?"          "Yes. But perhaps we could have some tea?" Claire replied as she looked at Jamie.          "Certainly."          He got up and left the room. Ferdinand Groide pressed the 'stop' button on the recorder. Then he got up and stretched a bit. Claire did the same.

#14DaysofOutlander #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Outlander #Outlander fan Fiction #Boston #Berlin #Claire Beauchamp #Jamie Fraser #Frank Randall #Jonathan Randall #Ian Murray #Jenny Murray

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Leap Day

Summary:  Leap Day is approaching and you have your eye on a guy from accounting. You work in a research capacity with the Avengers, scouring intelligence reports and doing research on localities where missions pop up, which means working closely with Captain America. When you’re overheard talking to Natasha about asking out the guy from accounting on Leap Day, Steve and Bucky go to great lengths to ensure that doesn’t happen.  

Features/Warnings: Dark!/Grey!Stucky. Elements of manipulation, potential dubcon (not so much in this part but in part two if I write a part two)

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: This fic has elements of manipulation. Steve and Bucky are underhanded and manipulative in getting what they want and if I write a part two that incorporates smut it will be dubcon. While I read dark!fic I don’t typically write it. This is me dipping my toes in that particular pool. Please let me know if you’d like to see a part two. 

Word Count: 2896

You sat in the kitchen of the Avengers living quarters at the compound. You were the resident researcher, the one who went through intelligence reports to compile details for briefings, the one who did research on the places the team would be going on everything from the government to local customs and the general lay of the terrain. Your job meant you worked closely with Captain America--sorry Steve, as he insisted you call him. Two years into your job and you still had a hard time with that one, even if you did consider him a friend. It had been at his insistence that you had moved into their section of the compound six months into your job there. 

Natasha was sat across from you, the two of you locked in a discussion on your love life, or rather the lack thereof. It was a Sunday and most of the team was scattered. It was a day off, except for light training, no mission on the horizon.

“So just ask him out. Leap Day is Saturday. You know there’s that whole tradition where women ask out guys on Leap Day,” she said. You laughed.

“He doesn’t work on Saturdays…besides I thought that was proposals,” you said. She smirked.

“You can still ask him out. Worst case, he says no, you move on with your life,” she said. You sighed. Rick worked in the accounting department. You crossed paths once in a while and you were smitten. You knew he had been flirting with you. There was no misinterpreting it. But neither one of you had made a move yet.

“Easier said than done. Rick’s just so...he’s the guy who all the girls would swoon for if this was high school. I don’t know that I can just ask him out,” you said. 

“Just do it. One of you has to,” she said. In the living area, Steve and Bucky both tensed as they listened to your conversation with Natasha. It wouldn’t do to have their girl going out with someone else, especially someone from accounting who could never protect her the way they could. 

“I think we need to pay the accounting office a visit tomorrow,” Steve said, his voice low. Bucky nodded in agreement.

“I think we do,” he said. The two sat in silence for a while longer, listening to what you and Natasha were saying. You’d see how wrong Rick was for you, and how right the two soldiers were. They just had to show you first. 

Monday morning you headed to the accounting office, two cups of coffee in hand. You handed one to Rick as you found your way to his desk, a smile on your face. 

“So, I was thinking. Maybe we could go out tomorrow?” you asked him. His smile fell. You could already feel the sting of rejection settling in.

“You’re a great person, a good friend, but...I don’t see you that way. I’m sorry,” he told you. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes. How had you misread the situation so poorly? You were sure he’d been flirting with you, sure that he was into you. 

“Oh...I...okay, yeah. Um, have a good day?” you replied, unsure of what else to say before turning on your heel and heading for your office. You shut the door as soon as you were safely inside, letting the tears fall. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You chastised yourself. It was high school all over again. Of course someone like him wasn’t into you. You had been foolish to think otherwise. You were pulled from your thoughts by someone clearing their throat. You let out a startled yelp, seeing Steve and Bucky sitting in the two chairs across from your desk.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked you. You shook your head.

“Nothing you need to worry about Captain Rogers,” you said. You saw the look of concern on his face as he stood and strode over to you. You were surprised when he brought a hand to your face, wiping away the tears that were still falling. Bucky was quick to join him. 

“You’re our friend, doll. We’re going to worry when you come in looking like someone just broke your heart. Who do we gotta go have a chat with?” Bucky asked.

“No one. It’s nothing. I was foolish for thinking someone like him could like me. That’s all,” you told them, pulling away and heading for your desk. You had had a crush on both soldiers once upon a time when you started. But once you settled and got to know them, it passed. They had become good friends, after some insistence on their part. 

“Someone like who, sweetheart?” Steve asked. You shook your head.

“You two aren’t here to talk about my relationship woes. What did you need?” you asked, your tone slightly clipped. The sooner you got them out of your office the sooner you could have your breakdown in relative peace.

“We wanted to go over the latest intel report with you, about the situation in Ottawa. But that can wait. Why don’t you take the day off?” Steve asked. You shook your head.

“I have far too much to get done today to do that,” you replied. The soft expression on his face hardened. You had never seen that look directed toward you.

“You’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguing. You report to me. And I’m telling you, it can wait until tomorrow,” he said, leaving no room for you to argue. Bucky gave you a small smile.

“Besides, we’re done with our work for the day. This was the only thing we needed to do today. We can go out and you can tell us what’s bothering you, doll,” Bucky said. You sighed. You missed the look the two shared as your shoulders sagged in defeat. There was no getting out of doing what Steve wanted, not when you knew he had no issue picking you up and forcing you out of your office. You stood and gathered your things, still missing the silent exchange between the two men.

“Good girl. Now, why don’t you go change into something more comfortable? We’ll go to that Italian place you like in town, hm?” Steve asked. You bristled at the first part of his comment. You took a moment before answering him.

“I think I’d rather just stay in. Have some time to myself tonight,” you said. His expression changed to something you couldn’t quite read. 

“If you’re sure...you know where you can find us if you change your mind. We’ll always make time for you, doll,,” Bucky said as the three of you exited your office. The door locked automatically behind you, thanks to FRIDAY. You just nodded at him, before heading for the residential building that housed the team. The duo headed in the opposite direction, toward Steve’s office. Once the door was closed, Steve gave him a look of annoyance.

“You should’ve insisted she go out to dinner with us,” he snapped. Bucky shook his head.

“Too much, too soon. If we want her to want us, we need to do this right. Push just enough. You almost had her running like a scared rabbit with your good girl comment. What happened to “let’s ease her into this”, or was that never your plan?” Bucky asked. Steve ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re right. I got ahead of myself. She makes it so easy to want her,” Steve replied. 

“We just have to be patient. We handled the Rick problem. Now we just have to wait for her to seek us out,” Bucky said. 

By five in the afternoon, you found yourself looking for the two. You found them lounging in the living area, Steve reading over a mission report and Bucky reading a book. You leaned against the wall, not wanting to interrupt the two. Steve glanced up and smiled when he saw you.

“Change your mind?” he asked, causing Bucky to look up as well. You nodded.

“Yeah...I was thinking I could go for some Italian,” you said. They both stood up and walked toward you. 

“How about you go shower and change into something nice. We’ll make a night of it,” Steve said. While it was phrased like a suggestion, his tone was commanding. You felt your face warm and a fluttering in your stomach. You nodded at the two before heading to your room to take a quick shower. You chose a simple dress, one of your favorites for the time of year, slipping on a pair of flats. You opted against putting on makeup. It was a dinner with friends, you didn’t need to go to that much effort. You headed to the common area, to find they were already there waiting, both men wearing dress pants and button downs. You shook your head, reminding yourself to get a grip. 

“Ready, doll?” Bucky asked offering his arm for you to link yours with. You smiled.

“Yeah,” you said, linking your arm with his. Steve came up along your other side, wrapping an arm around your waist. You could only assume what others who saw you would think. 

Dinner was nice. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a date. As far as you were concerned, it was two friends taking you out to cheer you up to take the sting out of the rejection you had faced. 

They walked you to your door at the compound when you returned. You stood outside your door and turned toward the two men.

“Thank you. I was feeling pretty low. I thought...I really thought he liked me. I don’t understand where I misinterpreted things,” you said. Steve brought a hand up to your cheek, tilting your head so you were looking at him. 

“His loss. A guy like that? He doesn’t know how to treat a woman like you,” Steve said. You weren’t sure who made the first move, but his lips met yours in a gentle but demanding kiss. You were breathless when he pulled away, acutely aware of Bucky’s presence beside you. You were turned around suddenly to face him. Unlike Steve, his kiss wasn’t gentle. When he pulled away, you looked between the two men.

“I don’t...I don’t understand I thought,” you said trailing off. Everyone had their suspicions about the two. 

“Doll, we’ve liked you for a while. And if you’re willing...we’d both like to take you on another date, see where this thing goes,” Bucky said, ducking his head a little. His eyes met Steve’s. Things were clicking into place. 

“I...people will talk,” you protested. You felt the fire ignite inside you at the thought of being with them both, but you knew what people would say. 

“Forget what others will say, doll. We can make you happier than some accountant,” Bucky all but growled. You paused. You had never mentioned that the guy you had asked out worked in accounting.

“How did you--,” Steve cut you off with another kiss. You tried shoving him away but you knew it was no use. You were confused. 

“Don’t you worry about how we know doll. He wasn’t right for you,” Bucky said. Steve pulled away from you.

“Now, sweetheart, why don’t you go on, get ready for bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Steve said. You nodded, still a bit dazed from the kiss. You missed the door handle at first, drawing chuckles from the two supersoldiers. Once you were inside and the door was shut, you let the events of the day play out. Maybe they had overheard you and Nat at some point. It was the only explanation that made sense. 

In the apartment they shared, Steve and Bucky sat down on the couch. They were quiet, both relishing in the fact that they had gotten to kiss you.

“We could’ve had her tonight,” Bucky grumbled.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to be patient earlier?” Steve asked with a grin. Bucky groaned. 

“I take it back. She’s so...she’s perfect,” Bucky said. 

“Soon. Like you said, Buck, we need to take this slow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you were up early. You were briefing the team that morning on the mission they’d be leaving for that afternoon, Steve and Bucky included. You had given thought to the previous night, deciding that while you liked both men, right now you couldn’t put yourself in that position. You slipped into the conference room, coffee in hand. You were startled to find  Steve and Bucky already there. 

“Careful doll,” Bucky said, plucking the coffee from your hands and setting it down. You set the folders down beside it, each one marked with a name. You pulled away when Steve moved to hug you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a frown on his face. You sighed.

“I thought about it. You guys are great but...I don’t think I’m in a position to well, put myself in that position,” you said. 

“Was it something we said?” Bucky asked, concern laced in his tone. He tried to think about anything that could have put you off. He and Steve didn’t account for this. 

“No, no. It’s...you guys are well, you. I’m me. You might not care what people think or say but...I’m not in a position where I can’t care. I don’t want people to think I have this position because of who I’m with. I don’t want to ruin our friendship either,” you said. Steve moved to say something, to argue, but stopped when he saw the subtle shake of Bucky’s head.

“If that’s what you want, doll. It doesn’t change how we feel. You know where to find us if you change your mind,” Bucky said as the door opened, Natasha shuffling in with Sam and Wanda. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You found yourself on Tinder in the absence of the team. Your only company was FRIDAY. Three days into the mission, you found yourself on a date with a guy named Wes. He was charming and funny. He was a school teacher, you had learned, teaching US history at a local high school. The team was due to be gone for the month, if not a little longer. The mission had taken a turn and you were working through the intel. In that time, one date turned to three turned into the two of you putting a label on things. 

You weren’t at the compound when the quinjet landed. Steve and Bucky shared a look of concern while Wanda handed Natasha several bills. Natasha smirked.

“How did you know she wouldn’t be here?” Wanda grumbled.

“I checked her Instagram. She’s out with the guy she’s seeing. Spending the night from the looks of it,” Natasha said. Steve’s shield clattered to the ground, drawing the attention of the team. 

“Must be more tired than I thought,” Steve said, picking up the shield. He wasn’t happy with this development and he could practically feel the tension radiating off of Bucky. They headed to their apartment in silence. Once inside, Bucky went to shower without saying a word as Steve pulled out his laptop. He found your Instagram with ease. For someone who worked in intelligence, you left your social media wide open. 

He was quick to find out all he needed to about this Wes Everett you were seeing. A background check came up clean. Parents still alive, three older brothers and a sister. Youngest of five. And decidedly not good enough for you. No one was. Only he and Bucky could give you what you needed. Bucky entered the room, sweatpants slung low around his waist. He seemed calmer, but still on edge.

“Wes Everett, thirty years old, school teacher and the youngest of five kids. Not a single thing wrong with him on paper,” Steve grumbled.

“When are we going to pay him a visit?” Bucky asked.

“Tomorrow, once she’s home,” Steve said. Bucky nodded. It was in your best interest that things with Wes end before you got hurt. Because he’d hurt you in the end, they were convinced. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like clockwork, you were in the communal living room, crying. You had a movie on that you weren’t paying attention to. Bucky sat down beside you.

“What’s wrong doll?” he asked, concern on his face. You let out a sob.

“I really thought it would last. He was a good guy,” you cried.

“Whoa, whoa, let’s back up, who?” he asked.

“I’ve been seeing this guy, Wes. He was so good, so sweet. He broke up with me. Things seemed fine when I left his place this morning. He didn’t have the balls to break up with me to my face. I was really starting to fall for this guy,” you said. 

“Come here, doll,” he said, opening his arms. You had no qualms about sitting on his lap and crying into his shoulder. He was Bucky, one of your closest friends there. He ran a hand up and down your back in comfort. Steve entered the room and a small smile emerged on his face as he took in the scene. Your crying had reduced to small whimpers here and there as Bucky whispered words of comfort in your ear. 

#steve rogers/bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky/reader #Steve Rogers/Reader #bucky barnes/reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes/steve rogers/reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes/reader/steve rogers #steve rogers/reader/bucky barnes #Captain America/Reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #marvel fanfic #Captain America #Steve Rogers x Reader #Captain America x reader #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #grey!steve rogers #grey!bucky barnes

[legolasoftherings]

Good Together

Legolas x reader, Legolas x Tauriel

Word Count: 1,225

Warnings: Angst, a redemption arc?

A/N: Oh my lord this is gonna be a heartbreaker. This fic was inspired by Good Together by Shallou and Ashe. I definitely suggest that you listen to it in order to get in the mood? I guess? Italicized words are direct song quotes.

“We couldn’t love from a distance; it took some time, but I realized you and I are better off missing each other's eyes,”

Y/n found herself pacing back and forth on the floor of the quarters that she shared with Legolas… again. She couldn’t stop thinking about him: the way he smiled when he looked at her, his eyes when he was enjoying himself, his firm but gentle way of holding her, it was all too much.

At this point, he had been leaving for extended periods of time for decades. His duties demanded that of him, but it broke her heart every time he walked out the door. She loved him too much to tell him not to leave, to spare her the continued heartbreak, but she knew that it would have to end, for her sake and his. Every time he left, Y/n knew that he might lay eyes on a woman more beautiful, more intelligent, and more charming than herself, and the thought of it tore her apart.

Finally, Y/n pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote her heart out, spilling many tears on the black ink. At the end, she signed her name and placed it on his side of the bed. She knew he wouldn’t be back for a few days, so she packed up her clothes and things in little boxes. She asked her parents if she could move back in with them, which of course they said yes to, seeing how distressed she was. Back in her old bedroom, she locked the door, and didn’t come out for hours. Y/n’s body wracked with sobs, and no one could bring her comfort.

“A box of your things is covered in dust, and I can't bring myself to open it cause I wanna wear something that you once loved,”

A few days later, when unpacking her things into her closet, Y/n realized that one of your clothing items, a tunic, was Legolas’. Y/n snuck back to his quarters, seeing as he hadn’t returned yet. She ran into his bedroom, keeping her eyes barely open, so as to not see anything that might set off her grief, and threw the tunic on the bed.

Running out of his quarters, she heard the unmistakable announcement that the prince was back from wherever he went this time, so she had to act fast. Y/n sped back to her parent’s quarters, and not a moment too soon. She almost made eye contact with the elven prince, but barely slipped inside the door.

Legolas was beyond excited to return to his love, and flew through the obligatory pleasantries that had to happen when he returned from routine journeys. As he passed through the halls, he nodded with smiles at elves that he walked by, just happy to be home. When he reached the door to his chambers, he knocked lightly, grinning. No answer. He let himself in, slightly surprised, but not put out of his good mood. The rooms were dark, and Legolas’ joy quickly seeped into anxiety. Did something happen to Y/n?

As he ran around his quarters, he almost overlooked a small piece of paper lying on his bed covers. He snatched it up in a hurry, skimmed it, and felt his heart splinter into a thousand tiny pieces. Collapsing onto the bed, the tears began to fall without him trying, and there he sat, for many hours, refusing all outside contact.

“Did you read the letter that I left you? If I know you read it, then I'd feel alright.”

7 MONTHS LATER

Legolas brooded through the halls of the palace, one of the rare times when he wasn’t locked in his chambers or out of the kingdom. Elves that made eye contact quickly looked away, as if they knew something that he didn’t. Y/n was his known ex-lover, but they had been parted for a while now. Legolas’ thoughts began to overcome him; the anxious and grieving thoughts that he had tried to suppress for many months. He quickly shook his head, effectively clearing it, and continued on his way.

As he passed a long hall, he took a double take. Legolas saw Y/n giggling and holding the hand of an ellon that he had seen in passing before as they snuck around the halls. The ellon leaned in for a gentle kiss, and she didn’t refuse him. Legolas’ heart skipped a beat, and slightly gasped.

“You look so good together, I can't even be mad. I'm so glad that you're happy like we were then, when I was yours.”

Y/n opened her eyes at the slight noise at the end of the hall, and saw Legolas. She stepped back from the ellon suddenly, causing him to ask, “What is wrong, meleth nin?”

“Nothing, love,” she said as Legolas stumbled out of her view, and returned to her new lover’s eyes.

Legolas practically ran back to his dark quarters. The worst had come to pass. Y/n had moved on, without him. It was his turn to forget about her, and he knew it.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Legolas chuckled as he ran down the hall, chasing Tauriel, who had scared him half to death during target practice.

“I’ll get you next time!” he called after her retreating back.

As he strode around a corner to return to his chambers, he almost ran straight into Y/n.

“Legolas!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’m so sorry, my lady,” Legolas answered, distracted, but looked down, “Oh, Y/n.”

“Yes?” you asked, a smile lighting up your features.

In truth, the two of you had barely spoken in a year; although an elf year seems like a blink of an eye, to Legolas, it had seemed like forever and a day. He suddenly had absolutely no idea what to say, but he knew he had to say something to fill the silence, “How have you been?”

Y/n laughed in earnest this time, saying, “You were always one for conversation. I’m doing very well. How have you been doing, Legolas?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing fine,” he answered looking down, and kicking the ground with the toe of his boot, “I see you’ve found someone new.”

Y/n sighed, and pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Yes Legolas, and his name is Beriedir. Are you with Tauriel?” she asked suddenly.

“Wha---no, well, um,” Legolas stuttered, unable to answer.

“Legolas, it’s okay to move on. I have, and you should too. Take your time, but she’s cute!”

“I know, Y/n,” he said, with a laugh, something he had not done in her presence for what had seemed a very long time.

She gave him a reassuring smile, and began to walk away. She stopped short, and turned around, saying, “I know you can do it, mellon.”

Legolas smiled back, feeling confused, but a good kind of confused. Y/n had barely spoken to him, but now, she’s calling me a friend? “I’ll take it,” he thought to himself, smiling. Legolas turned around, and walked in the direction that he saw Tauriel run towards, a new hope in his healing heart.

“If I had to choose better weather, I'd choose you every time. We were the summer but you're fallin' for someone else and that's okay.”

#Spotify #legolas x y/n #legolas fanfiction #legolas x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr #lord of the rings #i love legolas

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 70

It’s extremely difficult to get through to a child who has been beaten down, with fists AND words, to have a healthy understanding of how much worth they have in their family/community. That made the questions I had for Lydia about her mother and her mother’s role as Alpha damn near impossible to answer. Not that I stopped trying.

“Come on,” I took the keys down from the hook near the exit, unlocking Henry’s door first. “If you two so much as twitch and make me THINK you’re going to run, I’ll fucking make sure that running is the last thing either of you can do for the foreseeable future, understood?” I am forever shocked at how formidable I can sound standing at barely five foot tall, but watching Henry nod and swallow hard enough for me to hear it confirmed that he took my threat as seriously as I meant it.

Unlocking Lydia’s, I stood back and waited for her to exit. Before she could turn toward me, the main door opened and Daryl stood blocking the sunlight. Well played, I smiled up at him. “Taking ‘em for a walk?” I nodded and he stood back, waiting for our charges to join him outside.

This time, since he’d been listening to my issues with the current line of questioning, we worked in tandem. Trying to gather intelligence on how important Lydia was to her people, her mother, and their plans I let Daryl discuss it with her. Henry and I were, well Henry was moral support, I was a tagalong that wanted to tag my ass back home.

 I should have known, as the day grew longer, that my visit wouldn’t end happily. There was never a day that ended away from the relative safety of my own four walls that didn’t end covered in horseshit and sadness. Eventually, anyway.

I was inside, sitting with Tara, listening to her telling me all the reasons she didn’t want to lead Hilltop and was ill equipped for it reminded me of how Dad had felt so many different times over the years.

“You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?” She was staring at me like I’d grown a third head. And my smile grew.

“People who want to lead are usually ill suited for it, Tara, it’s the people who are forced to lead and do it reluctantly that are best at it.” I shook my head and then my smile dropped when we heard a commotion start outside. “What was that?”

That, it turned out, was Lydia’s people. Her mother, actually, since Alpha was the one who actually spoke. I stood beside Tara, looking down at the crowd of people who looked far more like walkers than humans, staring up at us as this lump of a woman demanded her daughter be returned to them. That they have two of ours, a man named Luke and Alden the blacksmith apprentice. A baby cried, and I felt my heart stop beating in my chest as Alpha mentions that we are all animals, and animals have babies. As the child cries, she demands its mother leave it, since it will draw the walkers and danger. Without hesitation, the woman does. My heart stops, seeing this person sit this completely innocent and fragile infant down and walk away.

The tears fell quietly from my eyes, even as the tiny infant’s arms waved, as its pitiful screams grew, and I felt the breath leave my body. Chaos, the cries, the mass of Alpha’s people, Daryl, walkers, Lydia- If I was asked later, and Negan did, I couldn’t say how long it took. Hours, minutes, days? I had no idea. Forever. No time.

I know that Lydia was greeted with a sharp slap by her mother. I know that Alden and Luke were back among our people. The baby, the tiny infant that was left to die as a distraction for beasts, was saved by one of the people that Judith rescued. Connie, a deaf woman, a woman who offered this baby to me as a gift as though someone told her that I would want it, that I would welcome it. I look at it like someone would look at poison ivy or the plague. Or I did if the look she gave me was any indication.

“She meant no harm, Jessi.” Daryl offered, standing next to me as I was preparing to take my leave the next day. Danger or no, I wanted to be home. I didn’t look at him, I didn’t dare. “Everyone knows-”

“That I’m broken?” I snorted, shaking my head and tightening the saddle on my horse. “Giving me a random baby because its mother is a genetic fucking asshole isn’t going to fix my broken uterus, Daryl Dixon.” I checked and double checked the saddle, I wanted nothing to slow my trip. “Can you hand me that-” I pointed at my bag and my bow. “The quiver is leaning next to-”

“The table, I got it.” He handed me each in turn. “No one said she was gonna fix ya, Jess.” He was careful not to touch my skin, remembering at least that much about my twitchy little self. “Can’t help but see how much it hurt ya to see-”

I laughed hard then, without a fucking hint of humor. “What fucking asshole wasn’t hurt to see it?” My eyes met his then, hot and hard. “Seriously? They left a BABY to fucking die, Daryl. RIGHT fucking there, daring us to watch.” I pointed, like he hadn’t bore witness too. “I CRIED. So fucking what?” I shook my head and after securing my bags, hooking my bow over the saddle horn, and getting situated myself, I put my quiver within easy reach. “I’m going home. Where people don’t usually randomly hand me infants as parting gifts.” I waved and headed out. Hoping like fuck I was finished with my part in this madness for a long while.

 I wasn’t home for more than a few hours, I fucking swear, when the entire bullshit showed up on my FUCKING doorstep. I wish I was joking. I truly do. I really truly do.

Teenagers. I swear, my dad got off so lucky with me. He might have teased that I had horrendous taste in the guys I dated, and I did, to be fair, but I wish he was around so I could point at Henry and go “REALLY?!”

First of all, he had ‘runaway’ with Lydia during her mother’s demands for her return at Hilltop. Then, once they were found, Lydia returned to her rightful place which I might remind everyone Daryl and I were NOT happy about, he decided to pretend that he was a knight in shining armor and go after her. I swear to GOD, someone (looking at you Carol) had better have a fucking conversation with Ezekiel about these grandiose ideas before they get someone fucking killed.

Which leads me to my doorstep. Or Alexandria’s gate. Daryl, Lydia, Connie (of the ‘here’s your new baby’ variety), and Henry (I came to rescue you m’lady, and oops I have a boo boo) all waiting at the gate. I was only excited to see Dog. And so was Mom.

 I was with Negan, who was listening to me as I railed against the entire fucking last hours of my visit to Hilltop, when Judith came to let me know we had visitors-AGAIN. Ugh.

“Go see,” Negan said, kissing my temple through the bars. “I doubt they brought the baby all this way,” he was teasing, I hoped. “Come back, tell me what’s going on. I love you.”

And after sighing heavily, reminding him that I loved him right fucking back, off I went to see what the high holy hell had gone fucking wrong again.

 The gist was our knight was wounded, our damsel was terrified and not sure she was worth it, and the adults were awkward (Daryl) and super unsure of me (Connie). But at least Dog was unscathed. While Henry got sutured in the infirmary, Connie and Mom bonded, Lydia kept her hero company and Judith got time with her uncle. That left me and my four legged pal, which I was pretty fucking pleased about.

I was playing with Dog, ignoring humans in general, when I overheard Mom giving Lydia a horrible nugget of advice that I felt the need to tell her my opinion on, since she insisted.

“Telling a young girl who is the victim of REPEATED extensive physical and emotional abuse that she should take her own safety into her own hands, is a pretty shitty way to lead, Mom.” I offered, keeping my eyes down as I ran my hands through Dog’s coat. “Don’t explain, you asked me to tell you my opinions, this is one.”

“She’s going to bring it down on our heads, Jessi.” Her voice was so low, I felt like her lips would barely be moving. “Can we afford more loss?”

I snorted. “Loss? Is that what we’re going to weigh now?” I shook my head and scratched Dog’s ears. “Humanity, Mom, count the humanity we cultivate.”

She came to me later, not much, just long enough that I’d seen Judith with Daryl and heard her asking him what our dad would do in Mom and the other leaders’ positions. Not a fair question, not really. She missed Daryl, I knew that, but I also knew that Daryl felt strained in Alexandria. Too cultured, which was hilarious since the first time it had been destroyed during the Savior War.

“Judith is-” She sighed, and I knew, I could feel it. The rebellion of my little sister. Her thirst for more understanding. To know more. “Negan thinks she’ll get it elsewhere if I don’t give it to her myself.”

“He’s not wrong.” I offered, handing her a drink. “I know you hate to hear that.”

“I do, but I want your honesty, and that’s what it is.” She smiled, and then sighed. “We’re going to The Kingdom. “Do you want to join us?” I shook my head. “Should I tell them to expect a long term visitor in his cell?” I laughed and asked if RJ was staying behind for me to take care of.

#The Walking Dead #negan x ofc #daryl dixon x ofc #mention of smut #OriginalGrimesDaughter #rick grimes daughter

[lesetoilesfous]

For the prompts, Anders/Fenris C1 being dared to have sex by someone else.

Hey, thank you so much for the prompt!!

(If you want me to write you a dragon age ficlet tonight, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Tags: modern AU, college AU, no magic, random frat boys, what happens when the boys aren’t chaperoned for thirty seconds, I’m sorry I’m British what even are american universities, smoking

Rating: Mature

“I think you two should fuck. I dare you.” Jackson has had too much to drink. Everyone has had too much to drink, but Kirkwall U’s champion hockey player has really, really had too much. His fair skin is red and blotched with alcohol, he’s sweating a little, and his pupils are dilated. Anders and Fenris level him with matching unimpressed glares. The rest of the team lolls against the couches, plastic cups gripped loosely in sweating palms.

Anders gets to his feet. Music is thumping through the walls of the house loudly enough to shiver through the carpet, and he’s been too hot for a while anyway. He’d kill for a breath of fresh air, and a cigarette to boot. The hockey captain getting weird was as good an excuse as any. “Not that I haven’t always wanted a sneak peek into the kinky corners of your mind, Jackson, but I haven’t. Ciao.” 

He leaves the loose ring of hockey players without a backwards glance, and finds himself wondering briefly why the hell he’d stayed at all without Kristoff. Anders weaves through the crowd without thinking much of anything, feeling the alcohol in his body slosh warmly through his blood and leaving his head dizzy with its sudden absence. He breathes, and tastes body odour and tequila. By the time he gets to the wide balcony doors he’s nearly gasping for fresh air - and the chlorinated stink of the swimming pool soaked in muffled music is like a brief taste of heaven. 

Anders slips his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of tobacco and rolling himself a cigarette before fumbling for his lighter. His fingers hit the bottom of his jeans’ cotton pocket and he curses, tucking the cigarette behind his ear, and briefly weighing the value of going back inside or bumming a light off a stranger. His fingers tap against his leg as he thinks about it, full now of nervous energy. 

He hates being alone at these things, and Isabela had dragged off Marian to ‘celebrate her victory’ about two hours ago. Kristoff was...somewhere, and Anders would be more worried about him if he wasn’t sure the man was damn near indestructable. He was probably off being dragged into something stupid by Nate. 

The wind rushes over the trees in a great whispering hush, and the soft splash of people in the pool plays cymbal crashes under the low murmur of conversation. Anders really, really wants a cigarette.

“Need a light?”

Fenris’ voice is as low, rough, and unreasonably attractive as it ever is. Anders barely resists the childish urge to groan out loud, and turns to see Fenris standing quietly, a lighter held up in the air between them like a white flag. Reluctantly, Anders drags the bitter protesting teenager inside himself back under control, and forces himself to give Fenris a polite smile, snatching the lighter out of his hand before he can think better of it. 

“Thanks.”

Fenris nods, and hums softly, his own cigarette held loosely between his fingers. He takes a drag whilst Anders burns his thumb on the lighter and finally, finally gets the little flickering flame between his fingers to catch his cigarette with a scratching snap. Anders breathes in, lets warm smoke fill his lungs, and feels himself relax. He shuts his eyes, and huffs out a cloud of tobacco with a contented sigh. Fenris chuckles, softly. 

“I owe you.” He gestures with one long elegant hand at the open doors. “I’d been searching for an excuse to depart that miserable little gathering for forty five minutes.”

Anders raises an eyebrow at him. He certainly hadn’t consciously been thinking of an out for Fenris when he’d left. “You’re welcome?” He lifts his voice in question, and tries not to think about the tattoos on Fenris’ throat. The corner of Fenris’ mouth pulls into a small smile that Anders desperately wants to read as fond.

“I said I’d come check on you.” Fenris explains. Around them, fairy lights drip down the side of the house, woven haphazardly into the trellis nailed to the bricks. Anders thinks of Jackson’s ‘dare’. His mouth twists.

“They probably think we’re out here engaging in a liberal dose of PDA.”

Fenris shrugs. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans, with a thin silver bracelet Hawke had bought for him years ago. He’s the most handsome man Anders has ever seen. It’s maddening. “I confess that what they think we might be doing matters little to me.”

Anders huffs and takes another drag, savouring the thick bitter taste of tobacco on his tongue. “You say that, you’re not the one who’ll be touted as your latest conquest.” He wrinkles his nose. “Honestly, you sleep with one hockey player and suddenly everyone says you have a thing for them.”

Again, there’s that glimmer of a faint, fond smile at the corner of Fenris’ lips. Anders blinks, and it’s gone. The pool is so bright under the stars it almost glows, rocking like a little ocean between the tiles. “I don’t labour under the impression that you’d sleep with me because I’m a hockey player.”

“That implies you think you know why I would.” The words trip from his tongue before Anders has the chance to think better of them. This was why he shouldn’t attend these events unaccompanied. If Kristoff was here, he’d take this moment to pilot them both back inside to the kitchen, and they’d find some nachos, and he’d listen whilst Anders had a small breakdown about what he just said and what Kristoff thought Fenris thought of it, and Kristoff wouldn’t know but it’d help to talk about it anyway.

Instead, Anders finds himself frozen as Fenris meets and holds his gaze, sucking on his cigarette before he lets go in a thick cloud of smoke. Suddenly, the music and the party seem very far away. Fenris says, a little roughly, “I think you like me because you think I’m kind.”

Distantly, Anders knows he’s blushing. With an effort, he wets his lips, and forces himself to speak, trying for humour and ending up somewhere around embarassingly intrigued. “I’m not in the habit of fucking every good samaritan I meet.”

Fenris hums, but there’s a flash of laughter and something like daring in his eyes as he taps his cigarette. Anders watches the ash fall, still burning orange, onto the tiles. He smokes his cigarette. 

“You think I’m intelligent.” Fenris says, softly. 

Anders really, really wants a drink. He looks quickly around the pool, where other students stand in bright colours and neon like a flock of tropical birds. He turns back to Fenris, standing in the shade of one of the garden walls, looking calm and confident and more collected than Anders has ever been. Anders forces a chuckle and tucks his hand into his jean pocket before his fingers start tapping again. “Yeah, Fenris, I have a brain. And I also know what your grades are.”

Fenris finishes his cigarette, and stubs it into an ashtray on a nearby table before stepping closer. Anders imagines he can feel his body heat and knows they aren’t standing close enough together for that to possibly be true. It’s hard to tell out here, where the electric lights of the house blaze into the darkness and fade quickly, but Anders thinks Fenris is blushing. 

Fenris says, quietly, “You think I am attractive.”

Anders looks away, and swallows, and tries to ignore the furious pounding of his heart and the flush burning up the back of his neck. “Again, I have eyes.” He stabs his cigarette butt  into the ashtray with more ferocity than is strictly necessary, and freezes when Fenris very, very gently tucks his hair behind his ear. 

Fenris is shorter than Anders, but it’s always been hard for Anders to think of him as small - and not only because he’s pretty sure the other man could benchpress him. There’s something about Fenris, and the careful way with which he speaks and acts, which demands the same kind of dedicated attention in return. Fenris’ other hand moves to tangle gently with Anders’ fingers. Anders stops breathing. 

Fenris looks at him, “I think you know that in the end, despite our best efforts, you and I are very much alike.”

Anders lets out the breath he’d been holding and it feels like he’s coming up for air. The wind rushes through the trees, and above them, where they’re not hidden by the blaze of artificial light, the stars glimmer in a blue summer sky. “Careful. I might get the wrong idea.”

Fenris’ hand tightens, just a little, around Anders’. There’s something earnest and unguarded in his green eyes that Anders thinks he’s never seen before. When Fenris speaks, his voice is a little uneven, and as he moves the lights of the house brush over his dark skin, and Anders catches the depth of his blush as it spreads over his cheeks. “I am hoping that you will get the right one.”

Anders grins a little, nervous and shaky, and squeezes Fenris’ hand back. “Well, you know me. I’m always a bit slow on the uptake.”

Then he catches the side of Fenris’ face in his free hand, and bends down, and kisses him. He tastes like tequila and cigarettes. Around them twists the warm embrace of a gentle summer breeze.

#dadwc #fenders #da2 #sneakyneighboururchin #fenris #anders #da2 fic #my fic #fenders fic

[cooperfm]

          hello  beautiful  people  !  lenny  here  (  23  ,  she  /  her  ,  mst  )  and  i’m  so  excited  to  be  here  !  i’ve  been  really  missing  my  boy  cooper  ,  and  this  group  really  felt  like  such  a  good  fit  for  him  .  i  cannot  wait  to  introduce  him  to  you  and  meet  all  of  you  !  everything  you  need  to  know  about  him  can  be  find  right  below  the  cut  ,  and  if  you  like  what  you  see  just  click  that  heart  or  slide  into  my  dms  and  we  can  plot  !  my  tumblr  ims  are  open  ,  or  you  can  reach  me  via  dis  of  the  cord @  *  ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 .#3088

did you just see cooper averton walking down fifth avenue ? the twenty three year old, singer / songwriter has been living in the nyc for five years and has a net worth of $124mill & 28.5m followers on instagram. some say they tend to be quite charming , but also reticent . however, they seem to enjoy posting about fingers adorned with silver rings , missed calls from california , lyrics scribbled in a rush on their social media. ( austin butler  ✕   he / him   ✕   cis male )   &   ( lenny  ✕   23  ✕   she / her  ✕   mst )

*  /  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺  :

full  name  :  cooper jonathon averton

nicknames  :  coop , cj , c.jave

age  /  birthdate  :  twenty3 / june 27 , 1996

gender  /  pronouns  :  cis male / he , him

sexuality  :  pansexual

hometown  :  bel air , california

occupation  :  singer , songwriter

*  /  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫  :  (  tw : mention of drugs , addiction , overdose  )

so i have a full bio written up for cooper , which you can find here — fair warning , it’s a novel because i tend to ramble and cooper has a fairly elaborate history . but below will be my attempt at the cliff notes of his story , though i can almost guarantee it may still get out of hand because i , like jenna marbles , have a too much gene and i can’t control it !!!

cooper was born in bel air , california , and i know you know what that means — the silver spoon was shoved right into his mouth from the get go . mr averton was a well - known and reputable lawyer , so money was far from an issue for the family . the only issue was upholding their reputation and the family legacy .

being the eldest child , cooper was immediately expected to be the one to follow in his father’s footsteps and take control of the firm . except young cooper turned out to be far from lawyer - material . he was sweet , outgoing , and a little weak - willed — and thus , the family disappointment .

long story short , coop was the black sheep of the averton family . he stretched to reach the high expectations of his family , particularly his demanding father — but always seemed to fall short . cue the daddy issues .

cooper’s peers took advantage of his kind , personable nature in order to rise to gain their own popularity . he eventually caught on to his fake friends when he caught his girlfriend cheating with his best friend , and he sorta spiralled . loneliness and rejection are his greatest fears and he couldn’t swallow losing everyone around him , so he swallowed his pride and just kept letting people take advantage of him — all while burying himself in bel air’s partying scene .

that is where his addiction started , the drugs numbing him in a way nothing else could — well , aside from music . his creative streak was just another thing that differed him from his family and cooper embraced it . he always loved the way music made him feel , strumming a guitar or humming a lyric . he had two loves in his life : drugs and music .

following high school graduation , cooper’s parents were pushing him towards college , crossing their fingers that their son would find his way back from his little detour in life . but cooper had a different route in mind for himself — he wanted to pursue his passion for music . this obviously did not sit well with his parents , who couldn’t fathom how their rockstar son would further tarnish their pristine reputation as bel air’s finest . tensions rose in the averton mansion until they finally exploded one night , leaving cooper to pack his bags and leave the place he had called home for eighteen years .

being eighteen , cooper had full access to his trust fund and he booked a one way ticket to new york city , eager to put as much distance as he could between himself and his family . he didn’t want to solely live off of his parents’ money though , so he began busking and bartending to pay for his little apartment .

cooper could have easily bought his way to the top , to the career he dreamt of , but he wanted to earn it , to know that his talent was what pushed him to success . so he played on the streets , in as many bars that would let him , and uploaded his music online until he finally caught the attention of a rising record label .

his career generally follows that of his claim , sir sly , except his first single was released in 2017 . i’ll be working on a general timeline for his career , but he’s been active since 2017 and just released his newest single “ all your love ” !

last year , cooper ended up in rehab after a near - fatal overdose while touring . he went off the grid for three months until returning in the fall a brighter version of himself . it seemed to have done him good , except he eventually fell off the wagon after a few too many nights back in his usual clubs . that’s all on the downlow though , not many know he’s back to using and he’s careful to only be caught with a drink in his hand .

he’s also slowly reconnected with his family since his teens . they still don’t love his lifestyle choices , but there’s still the random phone call every now and then .

** i don’t know where else to weave this in , but his stage name is c.jave — sort of a little alias for him so he wasn’t leaning on the averton name .

*  /  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹  :

label(s)  :  the maverick , the benevolent , the contingent ,

traits  :  charming , reclusive , diligent , trusting , loyal , naive , addictive , creative , short - tempered , obsessive 

aesthetics  :  fingers adorned with silver rings , a journal bound in leather , missed calls from california , shirt sleeves pushed up to elbows , lyrics scribbled in a rush , cigarette smoke curling from parted lips , broken guitar strings

personality wise , cooper’s a walking enigma . at first glance , he’s quiet , mysterious , and a little intimidating . his resting “ don’t fuck with me ” face can put most off , and he’s unlikely to make the first move with strangers — unless he has something in his bloodstream .

give him a few drinks ( or pills ) though , and cooper can become the life of the party . he honestly just loves to have fun and enjoy his freedom in nyc . he’s a well - known face at the bars and is often photographed stumbling home to his loft apartment in times square .

his walls are unfortunately let down a little too quickly for his own good though . even though it’s fucked him over in the past , he trusts too easily and wants to believe in the best of everyone . he’s quite charming and sweet so he can easily win over most , but those cold - blooded enough find it easy to take advantage of him and his generosity .

once you earn his trust , cooper while fight tooth and nail for you . he’s fiercely loyal , catch him throwing hands at anyone who tries to mess with his friends .

he’s also a major gentleman . manners were ingrained in him from the start , so he’ll open doors for strangers , text you to make sure you got home safe , and offer help with anything you need .

this isn’t a major thing , but i wanted to include it , but he’s a really great conversationalist . he’s just so curious , so he listens really well , and is so intelligent and well - thought that any conversation can twist into some deep , philosophical exchange if you’re not careful with him .

oh and — his look is current austin : the short , dark brown hair — v elvis of him . he had the original long , blond hair for a good few years but cut it shortly after rehab for a “ fresh start ” or some bullshit .

*  /  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺  :

i truly want anything and everything plot wise for coop . i’m down to brainstorm , fill wanted connections , and / or work off of chemistry ! but i’ll list a few ideas that come to mind rn :

first nyc friends . he’s been here since 2015 and sorta bounced all over the place . i would love a roomie from back in the day in coop’s old , run down apartment , some og party buddies ?

exes ! he’s openly pansexual , so this is open to any . please break his heart ( sir sly has a song about a cheating ex soo 👀  )

friends with benefits , random hookups . drunken one night stands !

writing partners ? cooper writes all of his own music and also writes for other artists .

bromances . partners in crime . brother / sister friendship !

neighbours ?? cooper lives on his own in a really beautiful loft apartment , but i’d love a neighbour in the building or something !

flirtationship or cute crush !!!

#elite:intro

[winterisakillerwrites]

Absence Makes the Heart...

Title: Absence Makes The Heart…

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: T

Summary: Tom returns home to the woman he loves.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was inspired by the Betrayal rehearsal photographs. The idea struck me and once I finished writing Love & Great Buildings, I sat down and explored and this is the result. Thank you, again, @redfoxwritesstuff, for listening to me figure out this tale and encouraging me.

As much as he’d missed his friends in the nearly four months he’d been away, the very last thing Tom Hiddleston had wanted to do was spend his first evening home at this party. Well it wasn’t a party, per say, more of a small get together with several old friends. But the sentiment was much the same. The entire flight home he’d contemplated the various excuses he could make to avoid attending; each one feeling both feeble and rude. These were his friends, people he had desperately missed while away. And, he told himself as he’d stood in front of the mirror that adorned his bedroom wall, he’d made his promises and Jenna had insisted.  So, for better or for worse, here he was.

The gathering had been in full swing by the time he and Jenna had arrived. They’d made small talk as they handed over their coats and went towards the main room to mingle. He found his gaze wandering over his girlfriend’s form, drinking her in. She really was a stunning woman; long, curling chestnut hair framed her heart shaped face, deep blue eyes that shone with a confident intelligence that had always captivated him, and a tall and curving form that he’d dreamt of fondly each night he’d been away from her. God, he’d missed her. Phone calls and brief FaceTime or Skype sessions had helped but they simply weren’t enough. He’d known it had been hard on Jenna too, how could it not? And while she’d known, had stated time and again that she understood that it was all a part of his life, his work, Tom knew that she struggled with the idea of him being gone so long.

He had been between projects when they had met; at a bookshop on a surprisingly rare sunny April afternoon. He’d noticed her standing in one of the shops corners, nose buried in novel; attention laser focused on the words before her. She was stunning, her hair piled high on her head in a messy knot, green woolen coat worn over a pair of dark and snug jeans. She hadn’t seemed to take any note of him nor his staring, for which Tom was exceedingly grateful. It had taken him a good five minutes to pluck up the nerve to approach her and figure out just what he was going to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to flirt, many women could attest to just how talented he was in that department, more that something in him screamed that she was different, special. Someone he should approach with more than an effective, but trite, line.

The smile that had spread across her face that afternoon still resonated in his mind. She had been flustered initially by his attentions, tripping adorably over her words and blushing in the most alluring way. She’d been hesitant, though, when he’d asked her for coffee. She’d been well aware who he was and understandably cautious about what such an invitation could mean. Tom hadn’t been able to blame her; his life had a horribly tendency to be dissected and he knew very few people who would willingly sign up for such a thing. In the end, though, she had agreed and it had been one of the best afternoons he’d had in far too long. They’d sat in that tiny café for hours talking about any and everything they could think of. She was brilliant and quick on her feet; several times Tom felt as though he was trying to keep pace with her. They’d parted reluctantly that afternoon, exchanging numbers and promises to do this again and soon.

And they had. In those few blissful weeks he was off, he’d seen Jenna as often as he could manage; coffee dates, lunches, dinner, movies, any and everything he could think of. She’d been just as keen; taking to texting him at random intervals throughout the day and spending long stretches of time after their dates just talking with him on the phone. When the responsibilities of his life came calling he’d been as honest with her as he could; he would be gone for long stretches at a time and some of those with little to no phone reception, he tended to throw himself into projects and characters to the determinant of those around him, that being with him wasn’t something he would wish on anyone and as much as he had come to care for her he would understand if this was too much to handle far too soon into whatever they were becoming. She’d been honest with him in turn; she hadn’t been sure if she could handle it but she wanted to at least try. Whatever they were, she’d actually chuckled at that, he was worth the effort at the very least.

The separation had been difficult on them both and Tom, for his part, did all that he could to be as available as time and demand could make him. They spoke on the phone at least once a day, usually as he was headed to bed and she was getting ready to start her day, and texted often. Face Time and Skype had been instrumental in helping to keep the connection open between them. But they had survived and thrived in the years since. There had been other separations and other struggles but they had borne them together and had come out stronger for them.

And standing beside her now as they chatted with friends, Tom couldn’t help but be grateful still that she had taken that chance on him. That she was still taking it. His life wasn’t the easiest to be a part of, he knew that all too well. But she was here and that meant the world to him. He allowed his hand to rest gently on the small of her back, simply enjoying the warmth of her beside him. He listened as she talked with their friends, chiming in when appropriate until he’d been dragged away by Ben who’d insisted Tom join in whatever discussion he’d been having about filming locations with a mutual actor friend. She’d smiled and nodded as he left before quickly becoming absorbed in the conversation again.

Talking shop with Ben and Harry was pleasant; he’d known both for a long while now and catching up with them had always been something he enjoyed and looked forward to. Harry was about to start filming in the states, his first time there, and had wanted opinions and advice from his fellow actors. As they chatted amicably, Tom found his attention wandering. He was bone tired but despite it all, glad he had come.

His eyes flitted back to where he’d seen Jenna last to find her gone. He thought little of it, she’d come to know a great many of his friends well in the years they’d been together and had made many more of her own. Wandering off wasn’t something completely new for her. Paying it little mind, he allowed himself to be pulled back in by Harry’s questions as he nursed the same drink he’d had since the party started.

Drink finally empty. Tom made his excuses and headed back towards the small bar near the kitchen. He, in all honestly, probably shouldn’t go for another whiskey given how exhausted he truly was but this was a party and he’d desperately wanted to let go and relax. He found the desired bottle sitting on the shelf behind the makeshift bar and poured himself two fingers. This would be it for tonight, he reasoned. He took a slow, deep sip, enjoying the way the alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. A pleasant buzz would be enough to carry him through the rest of the night. As he made his way back to the main room a noise caught his attention. Two voices carried from a darkened hallway; one male one female talking in heated whispers. He should have kept walking; whatever lover’s tiff he’d inadvertently stumbled upon would most likely be helped not at all by his unwanted presence.

Tom had fully intended to keep walking, intent on finding Ben again and asking after his family cursing the fact that he hadn’t thought to do so beforehand. But the sound of his name in a whispered hiss stopped him in his tracks. Was someone calling out to him? And if so, why in such a manner? It didn’t make any sort of sense. He turned towards the hallway, half hidden behind a ridiculously large potted plant, to see who had called out to him. Jenna came into view in the dim light and he’d been about to call out to her when he saw a hand grab her arm, slowing her retreat.

“Jen, please. We have to tell him. You know we do.” The dark head of one of his oldest friends, Matthew, appeared beside her. He watched the expression in the other man’s eyes and felt at once that he’d stumbled upon something he very much should not have.

He turned and made a quick and hopefully quiet retreat back towards the main area of the house. His mind was spinning with what he had just seen. A lover’s tiff, Matt and Jenna, surely not? That was utterly ridiculous. Neither of them would ever…But still the idea wouldn’t seem to leave his head. God, he really shouldn’t have gone for that second drink. He was overly tired and was obviously reading far too much into what could have easily been an innocent conversation. But, a small, dark voice in the back of his mind objected, why do so in a darkened corner? Why, if there’s nothing to hide, would they sneak off and be talking about you?

Tom shook the thoughts away. There was a rational and reasonable explanation for what he’d stumbled onto. There had to be. Jenna and Matt had grown close over the years since they’d been introduced at a party not so dissimilar from this one. He’d known they’d frequently met up for lunch and for coffee. Hell, he had encouraged it. It had warmed his heart to know that two people he cared greatly for were getting along so well. There was no reason at all to think anything untoward had happened.

“Ah, Tom!” Ben called, waving him over. Tom went to rejoin his friend, pushing the strange scene from his head. He trusted Jenna to be honest with him and he trusted Matt to do the same.  There was nothing to fret over. Absolutely nothing at all.

The rest of the evening passed without comment. Jenna had found him, still in conversation with Ben, and had tucked herself neatly to his side. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss to the side of her head. She stayed by his side for the rest of the evening, chatting with Ben about his latest film and the comings and goings of his life. Tom found himself thinking longingly towards getting her home and being able to show her just how much he’d missed her.

The entire ride home she had been quiet, leaning her head against his shoulder but not speaking. It was strange but he was honestly too tired, and still just a bit too buzzed, to think about it properly. He’d felt himself lulled into near sleep by her warmth and the soft movement of the hire car. “Tom,” he heard her soft voice whisper in his ear. “Tom we’re home.”

He grumbled sleepily and climbed out of the car behind her. He waved the driver on and yawning, followed Jenna up the gate and into the house. Toeing off his shoes, Tom climbed the stairs to their room. He heard Jenna wandering around downstairs and paused on the second floor landing to call down to see if she was alright. A muffled “I’m fine” echoed back from what he thought may have been the living room. He nodded to himself and continued on his way to bedroom. Stripping in record time he stumbled into the bathroom, depositing his dirty clothing in the hamper by the door and set about washing his face and brushing his teeth. He tumbled into bed, sleep overtaking him almost the moment his head hit the pillow. He woke briefly when he felt Jenna crawl into the bed beside him. “Love you,” he mumbled his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Good night, Tom,” she whispered back, turning her back to him.

When he woke in the morning, he was alone in bed. Tom rubbed his eyes, tossing the covers off and rolled to the side of the bed. He stretched his arms over his head and let out a long yawn. “Jenna?” He called out. No response. A note sitting on the dresser caught his eye. He pushed himself to his feet, padding over to the dresser and grabbed the note.

           Sorry, called in early to work. Should be home mid-afternoon.

                                                      Jenna

Tom frowned at that. He had hoped that he would at least get to spend the morning with her. He’d been gone nearly four months and he’d missed her desperately. He let out a sigh, such as life. Grabbing a t-shirt from the closet, he pulled it over his head and padded downstairs. He yawned again made his way into the kitchen, his focus shifting from his disappoint at waking alone to obtaining caffeine and food as soon as possible. Ten minutes later with the coffee brewing on the counter and eggs cooking on the stove, Tom settled onto a barstool and took a deep breath.

The first thing on his agenda, after feeding himself he thought with a chuckle, was to set about unpacking. He was set to be home for the next several months and the sooner he stored those damned suitcases in the back of his closet, the better as far as he was concerned. After unpacking he would see about heading to the market and getting a head start on dinner for the evening. He wasn’t sure if tonight was the night but knew it would be soon. He didn’t think he could stand waiting any longer.

Breakfast consumed, he set about pulling his suitcases from the hall where they’d been left the afternoon before towards the bedroom. He made a quick side trip to put the bag of dirty laundry by the washing machine. He grimaced at the amount he’d accumulated; that would be a job for another time. Once upstairs, he tossed the smaller of the two bags onto the bed and opened it. He took his time sorting through the remaining clothing, hanging what needed to be hung in the closet and folding the rest.

Once everything had been sorted, Tom headed back downstairs and into the living room towards the bookshelf along its back wall. He had several books he’d been meaning to read and now he finally had the time. His fingers traced along the spines of the books until he came across the novel he’d been searching for. Book in hand, Tom settled onto the couch. The loud chiming of his cellphone from across the room snapped him from the book. Placing the book face down on the chair arm, Tom pushed himself to his feet and went to see who was beckoning his attention.

Luke, of course. Reminding him of the meeting he had for a potential stage role early next week. Tom let out a sigh, he adored Luke, honestly he did, but the man never seemed to relax. He opened the messaging app to reply when his phone began the tell-tale beeping of the dying battery.

“Damn.”

He dropped the phone on the couch and went in search of his charge cord. Last he’d seen it was in his carry-on bag. But going through it revealed nothing. Damn. It had to be there somewhere. He checked again. Nothing. Frustrated, he grabbed his phone and ran upstairs. Maybe he’d stored it in his checked bag by mistake. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

Tom tore through his luggage for the sixth time, cursing under his breath. He couldn’t find the blasted charger and had spent the last twenty minutes in frantic search. He could have sworn he’d packed it in his carry on but no such luck. And neither was it in his checked bag. Could he have possibly left it at the hotel in Spain? God, he hoped not. He had a terrible habit of misplacing charge cords. Luke had a running tally of how many he’d lost over the years and would take great pleasure in adding another to the board. Last count was at near a hundred, Luke had been smug to point out the last time they’d met face to face. So Tom had taken to keeping spare cords tucked in strategic places throughout the house. He let out a sigh as his phone beeped feebly signaling the imminent death of its battery and pushed himself to his feet, padding up the stairs and to the bedroom. Time to break into his emergency spare it seemed.

If he remembered correctly it should be in the drawer on the left hand side of the bed. He padded into the bedroom, hoping he hadn’t moved it at some point in the last few months. That was another of his rather unfortunate habits. He pulled the drawer open, moving aside the folded pieces of paper and other bits and bobs that had taken residence in the drawer, knocking a fair few pieces onto the floor. “Ah ha!” he breathed in triumph as he pulled the charge cord out, holding it aloft in mock victory. He chuckled at his own ridiculousness and tossed the cord onto the bed, bending over to pick up the mess he’d made.

His fingers brushed over a folded piece of paper. He picked it up, trying to remember what it possibly could be. He was forever stuffing random notes and script pages in the drawer by his bed, intent on studying over them later only to forget he’d done so. Thinking this had been a hapless victim of his unintentional carelessness; Tom unfolded the paper and scanned it over, a sinking sense of dread coursed through him as he read. A strangely familiar handwriting leapt out at him from the page, Matt’s handwriting he realized with a jolt, and he felt both hot and cold all at once. It wasn’t his letter. It had never been intended for his eyes.

Tom couldn’t seem to put the letter down though he wanted to throw it violently across the room. The words taunted him, speaking of all the things he had wanted to do to her. All the things he had done with her. ‘I dream about running my hands down your warm, inviting thighs, taking you hard and fast, having you scream my name…My beautiful Jen…You are mine far more than you were ever his, we both know this..’. The world felt as though it had imploded beneath him, bits and pieces of a future so certain now crumbled and broken before him; the scene from the night before playing once more in his mind. “Jen, please. We have to tell him.”

Oh god.

His mind flashed to the ring hidden in his top drawer. He’d slaved over finding the perfect one for months, had dragged his baby sister to jeweler after jeweler, until finally he’d stumbled over what he’d felt was the ring. A platinum band studded on the sides with small diamonds and at its center a beautifully cut circular diamond surrounded by small emeralds. It was stunning and he’d known as soon as the clerk had placed it before him that it would look perfectly at home on Jenna’s small left hand.

Emma had squealed in delight when she’d seen it. “My God, Tom, she’s going to absolutely adore it!” Her endorsement only confirmed his internal knowing that this was right; that she was it for him. He’d bought the ring without a second thought, storing it somewhere safe and secret while he plotted and planned just how to ask her to be his for the rest of their lives.

And now…Now, all of it was for nothing.

Tom ran a shaking hand through his hair. He wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. God, he wanted to hit something. He’d been such a fucking fool; so god damn fucking trusting and now it had blown up in his face. The letter sat on the floor beside him and he wished for the hundredth time that he hadn’t found it. That he hadn’t read those beautiful, horrible words that had shattered the relationship he’d been so sure was solid and unshakable.

His head shot up at the sound of the door opening on the floor below. He heard Jenna’s muffled curse as she shoved the door closed with her foot quickly followed by her feet padding on the stairs as she called his name “Tom? You upstairs?”

It took him what felt like ages to find his voice enough to answer with a curt “Yes.” By that time she had rounded the corner and was standing in the doorway.

“Tom?” He could hear the confusion and concern in her voice and clinched his hands at the surge of anger that raced through him. With a calculated movement he bent and snatched the letter from the floor, holding out to her wordlessly. “Tom what is that…?” her voice trailed off as she took the letter in her hand and scanned over its contents. “I…What…How?” she stammered.

“You really should be more careful what you leaving laying about, darling.” His words were cool and clipped. “I was looking for my spare charger and found that instead.” He gestured towards the letter still clutched in Jenna’s now shaking hand. “Imagine my surprise, learning the woman I love fucked someone I considered a dear friend.” The laugh that fell from his lips was mirthless. “How many times, my love, did he have you when I wasn’t looking? How many times have I been the witless fool, thinking we were happy? How many times?”

He watched as she flinched at his words, tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Tom. Please believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen. We didn’t go looking for this, either of us…It just happened.” She took a deep breath, eyes pleading and desperate. “I didn’t know how to tell you…What to say…I just…”

“Anything,” he hissed. “Anything would have been better than being fucking blindsided by this. Jesus, Jenna! Why didn’t you say something? Anything? Did I really make you that miserable that you would turn to someone else?”

She jerked at that. “I wasn’t miserable, Tom. I was lonely. You were gone. You were always gone.”

Tom blanched, feeling his heart crack in his chest. Funny, he thought, that it can do that when it’s already shattered. “So instead of saying something to me, telling me how you felt, you went and fucked Matt instead?” He pushed himself to his feet and stormed to the other side of the room. He couldn’t stand to be near her now.

“We fell in love, Tom. We didn’t plan it. It happened.” She took a few tentative steps towards him, hand stretched out. He took an involuntary step backwards, not wanting her to touch him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Tom laughed bitterly, “Are you sorry it happened or just sorry that you got caught?” He shook his head, “No, never mind, I honestly don’t want to know.” He paused and ran his hand through his hair before brushing past her towards the bedroom door. “I need you to pack your things and leave. I don’t care where you go, but I cannot have you here.” Without waiting for her reply, he bounded down the stairs and out the front door.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character

[fulcrumahsokaamidala]

Saturday Spectacular #20

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

Airplanes, Coffee and Deadlines by @hope-for-olicity | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity begins working at a national newspaper where she has always dreamed of working. On her first day, she meets a very interesting photojournalist. The two will eventually work together but sparks fly immediately.

It Will Be Fun. Trust Me. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity doesn’t agree with Oliver’s plans for a relaxing vacation. How will she ever get him to see her perspective?

Just Follow Me. I Know the Area. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Rewrite of the infamous 3x01 date.

Now? Now you listen to me? by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: It’s moving day for our favorite Queens.

I Know You Didn’t Ask For This by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in season 2.

I Might Just Kiss You by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in season 2.

Yes, I'm Aware. Your Point? by @stephswims | Arrow |  One-shot

Summary: Established Olicity.

No, And That's Final. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Established Olicity. Shopping for a present for Thea. Sort of.

Can You Stay? by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in Season 2 after the Russia debacle.

There Is A Certain Taste To It by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Established Olicity.

Listen. I Can't Explain It. You'll Have To Trust Me. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in season 2. Day 10 of Fictober. Felicity has a feeling.

It's Not Always Like This by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Another Season 2 ficlet.

What If I Don't See It? by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in Season 4.

I Never Knew It Could Be This Way by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Takes place in season 1.

I Can't Come Back. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set in Season 1 before Felicity finds out Oliver is the vigilante, or can be a completely separate AU.

That's What I'm Talking About by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Established Olicity builds a sunroom.

Listen. No, Really Listen. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: The conversation that should have happened in Season 4 to prevent Season 5 stupidity.

There Is Just Something About Him by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: AU.

Secrets? I Love Secrets. by @stephswims | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Season 2.

I Wrote Your Name in My Heart by @alanna-the-lionheart | Arrow | Completed

Summary: One cold night in December, a group of men kidnap Oliver right in front of Felicity. They leave behind no ransom or demands, no hints to his fate, and no clues to follow. As the new year starts, the team begins to lose hope that they will ever be able to save the Green Arrow; all except Felicity, because Felicity just got Oliver back, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to lose him again. Her hope pays off in the end…but when they finally find Oliver, they find a broken man they barely recognize. Felicity vows to do whatever it takes to make the man she loves whole again. Started off as a future fic but is now technically alternate canon/AU (takes places starting in early December 2016).

The Legacy of a Queen by @inlovewithimpossibillity​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Series of one-shots from a future AU where Oliver and Felicity are able to raise their children after they defeat the Ninth Circle and Oliver hangs up the hood

Lucas’ Adventures by CSM | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Post 2x07. One late night in the foundry Oliver finds an abandoned baby, who he later finds out is his biological son, the only thing is the baby seems to think Felicity is his mother, which is impossible. Or is it? aka, Mia Smoak gets tired of her baby brother and sends him to 2013 where their unsuspecting parents find him. Companion piece to Impeccable Genetics.My contribution for the Olicity Summer Sizzle

Three Little Words by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver Queen loves easily and fully. When he loves someone, those three little words come easily. For Tommy, love has always been something used against him. To Tommy, those three little words are dangerous.

There Are Two Sides to Every Story by @oneofthosecrazygirls-fics | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Susan Williams and Bethany Snow are two of Starling City’s most prominent journalists…but their styles are very different. This is a series of articles written by these two journalists from the time of the sinking of the Queen’s Gambit to the present day.**set in the What Should’ve Been ‘verse**

Ride or Die by @someonesaidcake | Arrow | WIP

Summary: They say that life is a series of events that we can neither predict nor control… And then there is him. He’s a bit of an enigma. ~*~*~*~Young CEO Felicity Smoak is just trying to make her mark on the world, yes she’s a little high strung and stressed, but it was what is was… until he came along. With eyes a girl could lose herself in and shoulder-tapping hair made for hanging on to Oliver Queen was reckless and carefree. Also, he rode a bike. He was everything she wasn’t and he was a sucker for those sinful red lips and everything that came with them.*main story complete, now snapshots*

missing the bullet by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: After Oliver and Mia's cage match wins in Russia, Mia ends up getting shot when Oliver tackles the man aiming at her rather than jumping in front of the bullet. (A sort of alternate spec for 8x05)

by your side by ppperaltiagooo | Brooklyn Nine-Nine | WIP

Summary: in which jake is sent undercover again and amy finds out she is pregnant while he’s gone.

Queen vs Queen by @muslimsmoak​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Mignonette Renaldi Smoak has been handling being a princess pretty well so far. After all, she did only find out at the ripe young age of 15. Now, she is 21 and ready to take the throne of Genovia after being under the tutelage of her aunt. But there’s only one thing in her way, wait, actually two. Two things in her way: Oliver Queen, the hot young bachelor she danced with the night of her homecoming ball, who neglected to mention that he’s after her crown alongside his uncle Malcolm Merlyn, and the fact that she has to marry within 30 days if she wants to be Queen. Ray Palmer, Duke of Keystone is sweet, sensitive, intelligent and kind and seems like the perfect choice. But marrying and falling in love are two different things.

Silent Killers by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak have been married for three years and work CSI for the FBI. This story will follow their relationship and the cases they encounter.

Passion Killer by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | Completed

A Shot in the Dark by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Part of the Silent Killer's series. Oliver and Felicity try to solve the case of a mother that was shot in her car on the way to work.

If I Can't Have You by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Oliver and Felicity are called to a murder suicide. As they work together they try to unravel why a wife would kill her husband and then herself and where the couples marriage took a wrong turn. Part of the "Silent Killers" series.

Kerosene and Desire by @smoaking-greenarrow | Arrow | Completed

Summary: An Olicity Notebook AU with a darker twist.

Alpha by @oliversmuse | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver Queen was a powerful vampire that was captured by a group experimenting on hybrids. Turned into a hybrid that is half vampire and half wolf he is strong, fast and deadly. While in captivity he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak a hermatologist who is called in to monitor his feedings. All Oliver wants is to be free, away from the experiments and being in a cage, and strangely he feels he can trust Dr. Smoak. There is also an unspoken attraction between them that is forbidden. Can he convince her to set him free or will her attraction to him tempt her to keep him close?

Leaves of Change by @hope-for-olicity​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Smoak returns to her small hometown of Silver Lake just in time for the Harvest Fest, she came home to get grounding and figure out what she wants to do next the last thing she expected was that she’d want to stay.

The Donor by @spaztronautwriter​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity Smoak has always dreamed of being a mother and she isn't going to let a little thing like men stop her from making that dream come true. Having a baby by herself might just be biting off a little more than she can chew, but one way or the other it's about to change her whole life.

Like Real People Do by more0rLessJess | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Smoak has had a rough couple of years and all she wants to do is move on with her life and start her own tech company. After an incident at Queen Consolidated, she quit and accepted a job working as a technical analyst and computer expert at the Starling City Police Department, where she’s stuck for at least another year thanks to the non-compete clause she signed in her Queen Consolidated contract. But as much as she’d rather be in the tech world, she does love being able to help others. Plus she gets to do that with the help of a certain Detective, who she may or may not be attracted too. Oliver Queen just finished five years in the Army Special Forces and is only working as an SCPD Detective because his best friend and fellow soldier, John Diggle, said it would be good for him to help pull his life together after years of hardships in the military. Oliver expected to hate the job, but what he never expected was meeting the IT girl with a heart of gold and her own demons to deal with. Captain Quentin Lance just wants a functioning police department.

And My Arms Will Be (Just Like Walls Around You) by  imfallingforyoureyes102 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: But then lightning hits again, thunder fracturing the silence, and the Oliver that Thea sees is ten thousand miles away from the Oliver she knows.  God, when she’d said he needed to let someone in she knew she was right.   His face is pale white - his mouth drawn into a tight, pained line - and the way Oliver clutches the doorknob like a lifeline is enough to draw a panicked breath from Thea’s small frame.  (Or, while Thea hides out in the kitchen during a party at the Queen Mansion, a thunderstorm hits and it's Oliver who's stumbling in through the doors on the verge of a panic attack. Thea's all too scared and all too shocked and it's only a certain blonde that comes tumbling in after him who is able to pull the shattered pieces of Oliver Queen back together).

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

How Not to Peel an Orange by imfallingforyoureyes102 | Arrow | Completed

Summary: “Oliver Queen, you give me back my orange!” 

Felicity jams her finger into his chest with a small grumble. 

“Yow! Hey, Edward Scissorhands,” Oliver growls, grabbing onto Felicity’s hand, his own hand absolutely engulfing hers. “Watch the claws.” 

Oh, I’ll show you claws Oliver,” Felicity retorts spitefully, yanking her hand out of his grasp and swatting his arm repeatedly. “Give me back my fracking orange!” 

(Or, after finishing a conversation with Laurel right outside the elevator bank, Oliver finds Felicity eyeing a small orange wearily. Laurel watches the amused banter that springboards back and forth between the two, and it isn't long before she sees exactly who Felicity Smoak is in Oliver Queen's life).

you got all my love to spend by @inlovewithimpossibillity​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Lingering on an executive floor to talk to an executive assistant seems a little unprofessional to Oliver. And that opinion definitely has nothing to do with the way that Felicity is laughing along to whatever the delivery guy is saying. Nothing at all.[Set early-S2, Oliver's pig-headedness rears its head but Felicity is taking none of it, leaving Oliver searching for a way to make it up to His Girl Wednesday]

late night secret gatherings by @alexiablackbriar13​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Post-8x04. Oliver catches Mia sneaking out of the apartment and follows her to find that she’s secretly meeting Connor in the bunker for stress relief in the form of training. What he witnesses between them is more than enough to cause his overprotective fatherly instincts to flare up.

Vows by Abbie | Arrow | WIP

Summary: After the Siege of Starling City by Slade Wilson, threats and pressures force Oliver and Felicity to take desperate measures to protect their secrets, their team—and their very lives.

In Another Life by @inlovewithimpossibillity​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: This world has his head spinning and he’s constantly alert for whatever it might throw at him next. He’s trying to stay vigilant in case another figure from his past appears or something else throws him for a loop. He never, in a million years, would have expected what comes out of Dinah’s mouth next, however.“That was Rene, he said that Zoe needs to get some homework done so could you collect Mia? You’re so out of it anyway that you might as well take the rest of the day off.”[8x06 spec AU within which Oliver's alternate reality brings him face to face with a figure he never expected to see again]

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

@hope-for-olicity @emdee8907 @malafle @laxit21 @icannotbelieveiamhere

#saturday spectacular fic rec #weekly fic recs

[fallintosanity]

I keep forgetting insomnia is actually on a separate island from lucis proper, connected by a long bridge

also i think my ace is showing, but these boys deserve all the soft cuddles

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13

“That… was unexpected,” Young Ignis said carefully. 

Young Noctis looked up, though he didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes. “You gonna tell me I’m wrong?” 

“No—” Young Gladio started.

Young Noctis cut him off. “Tell me I should just go sit in a safehouse when Luna’s in danger? When Insomnia’s going to be wiped out? When I get two years before I die?!” 

Young Prompto jerked around to stare at him, but Young Noctis didn’t seem to notice. He was glaring now, at Young Gladio and Young Ignis, his jaw set. 

Young Gladio held up his hands. “No,” he repeated. “No, Noct. Cool it. I think you’re right.” 

“...Really?” Young Noctis asked, clearly startled. 

Noctis caught Adult Gladio’s gaze in the rearview, seeing his own amusement reflected in his Shield’s eyes. They hadn’t agreed on anything at that age - Noctis too caught up in worry for his father and his future to be the Crown Prince Gladio wanted him to be, Gladio not yet able to see through the mask of indifference he used to hide it. 

“Yeah,” Young Gladio said. “I ain’t real fond of what they had to say, either.” He jerked his head at the adults. “Cosmogony or not, we oughta do what we can.” 

Down on the floor of the van, Young Ignis frowned, probably aware that he would be outvoted on the subject if he spoke up. He opted to say nothing instead, bending his head over Young Prompto’s feet and resuming his first aid. Young Noctis watched him warily for a few seconds; when he continued to say nothing, Young Noctis said, “Ignis… if you want, we can drop you off. You don’t have to come—”

“Of course I do,” Young Ignis cut him off. The irritation in his voice didn’t quite hide the tremor in it, and though he didn’t look up, Noctis saw the glance he shot toward Adult Ignis from under his bangs. He swallowed, but added, “If you’re going to run off to Astrals only know where, you’ll need my help.”

Relief flashed across Young Noctis’s face. “Wouldn’t last a day without you.”

Noctis snorted. “You have no idea.”

“Great,” Adult Prompto said from the front of the van. “So do we have a plan yet? I can’t keep circling the city forever.” 

Young Noctis looked suddenly nervous; clearly he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Noctis leaned around him to say, “Take us out to Cotisse Haven.”

Prompto frowned, meeting his eyes in the rearview. “Cotisse? That’s like… five hours away.” 

“Five hours would put it outside the city,” Young Gladio added uneasily. “Outside the Wall.” 

Right. None of the kids had been outside the Wall yet, except Young Noctis’s trip to Tenebrae. “We need to get out of the city,” Noctis said. “Ardyn’s on the loose, and if we stay here, innocent people are going to get caught in the crossfire.” 

“But it’s not safe out there,” Young Ignis protested. “Especially not at night. Daemons roam the countryside at night.” 

“Daemons are roaming the city right now,” Adult Ignis pointed out dryly. “The Wall clearly isn’t enough to prevent Ardyn from summoning daemons within its bounds. He was bold enough to make an attack on the Citadel - he’ll hardly stop there.” 

Something nagged at Noctis’s memory and he frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure he’s the one who brought the daemons to the Citadel,” he said. “He looked surprised when I mentioned it.”

“If not him, then who?” Adult Gladio asked. “Ain’t like we have anyone else running around the Crown City that can summon daemons like that.” 

“I don’t know,” Noctis admitted. “But if there is someone else running around who can, it’s even more important that we get away. They may be targeting him.” He tilted his head toward Young Noctis, who looked startled, then concerned. 

Adult Ignis nodded. “I concur. We’ll spend the night at Cotisse Haven. By morning it’s possible the Crownsguard will have more information about the daemons at the Citadel, and we’ll be able to plan our next move.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Adult Prompto agreed. The van picked up speed, cutting sharply across several lanes of traffic as he steered them toward an exit. 

“So, uh…” Young Prompto said tentatively. “Can I ask what’s going on? Or I mean, if this is top-secret royal stuff, that’s okay too, I just… I don’t know—” He looked up at Young Noctis. “You said you’re going to die in two years and I…” 

Young Noctis flinched at the words and Young Prompto trailed off, fiddling uneasily with the gauze wrapped around his wrist. Noctis caught his younger self’s eyes and raised an eyebrow; Young Noctis took a deep breath and said, “Right. No, it’s not top-secret. Or maybe it is but I don’t care, you need to know too.” He gestured at the adults. “That’s us. I mean, they’re us, literally. From about twelve years in the future.”

“Us…?” Young Prompto asked blankly. He looked from Noctis to Ignis, then up to Gladio at the front of the van. His eyes widened as he recognized Prompto in the driver’s seat.

Prompto lifted a hand in a wave that would have looked casual to anyone who didn’t know him as well as Noctis did. “Hey.” 

“Oh,” Young Prompto said. “Um.”

“It’s pretty crazy,” Young Noctis said. “They showed up last night—”  

Noctis tuned him out, not really interested in listening to the recap of the horror show that was his life for the third time in twenty-four hours. At least the explanation kept Young Prompto distracted as Young Ignis finished cleaning and bandaging his feet. He had to pause when they reached the massive portal at the city’s exit, falling silent so Prompto and Gladio could have a conversation with the royal guard manning the checkpoint. 

Fortunately, Regis apparently hadn’t thought they would try to leave the Crown City; the guard only had a few questions which Prompto and Gladio lied their way through with disconcerting ease. It probably helped that they were both wearing Kingslaive uniforms, driving a Kingsglaive van, but the Prompto Noctis remembered had been a terrible liar. 

The guard waved them through the checkpoint and they passed into the long tunnel through the physical wall that supplemented the strength of the magical one. The four kids stayed silent as darkness wrapped the van, Young Prompto curling tighter against Young Noctis’s side, Young Gladio leaning forward with one arm half-raised as though preparing to summon his shield at any moment. In the driver’s seat, Prompto flicked on the daemon-repelling high beams, and a moment later the claustrophobic darkness of the tunnel fell away to the broad, starry darkness of the Lucian countryside at night. 

Not that they could see much of it, thanks to the lack of windows in the tactical van, and though the kids tried to lean forward enough to peer through the windshield, the headlights illuminated nothing but the long bridge across the channel that separated the island of Insomnia from the rest of Lucis. Eventually Young Noctis began talking again, picking up the explanation of the adults’ presence and the future which awaited them. 

When he finished, Young Prompto sat in silence for a minute or two, his eyes wide. Finally he said quietly, “That… that really sucks.” 

Noctis gave a low laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.” 

“Isn’t there something you can do?” Young Prompto demanded. “I mean, if you’re here in the past… can’t you change it?” 

Adult Prompto had said the same thing yesterday night in the Citadel, and again Noctis felt that traitorous little flutter of hope. “We don’t know,” he said. 

“I’m going to try,” Young Noctis said, and waved a hand vaguely at the road beyond the windshield. “I want to… to do whatever I can to make it better. Maybe the prophecy really is unbreakable, maybe I really will have to…” His voice hitched and he swallowed hard before continuing. “But at least before that, I can try to fix everything else. Save Luna. Stop the Empire from destroying Insomnia. Something.” 

“Of course,” Ignis interjected, “there remains the problem of Ardyn Izunia - the one from our time, who attacked you.” He nodded toward Young Prompto. “We’ve no idea what he’s planning, if he’s planning anything at all.” 

“You think he’s just fucking around?” Gladio asked. Young Ignis scowled at him and he winced. “Sorry. Screwing around.” 

Noctis rolled his eyes at Young Ignis, realizing a second later that his younger self had done the exact same thing. “I’m making the royal decree right now that swearing is fine,” Noctis said. “We’re all adults here, or close enough.” 

Gladio snorted. Young Ignis made the face he used when he was trying very hard not to make any face at all, which resulted in him mostly looking annoyed. Adult Ignis was doing the same thing, but he was much better at it. He said to Gladio, “Yes. Ardyn doesn’t appear to have planned this jaunt to the past any more than we did. While he’s highly intelligent and very adaptable, his goal depends on us being in the correct time. If he’s going to try to do anything, it will be to return us to our own time.” 

“Then why attack Prompto?” Young Noctis asked. 

“A hostage, probably,” Noctis said. “Leverage to get me to cooperate.” Or just to hurt Noctis. Ardyn had made clear he wanted to torment Noctis before they both died, and hurting Prompto seemed to be his method of choice. But Noctis wasn’t going to say that, either to Young Prompto who didn’t know how bad it could be, or to Adult Prompto, who did. Instead, he caught Young Prompto’s eye. “So you did the right thing by breaking away from him like that.” 

The kid ducked his head into Young Noctis’s shoulder, not quite managing to hide the blush that colored his cheeks behind his freckles. “Next time I’ll punch him or something,” he muttered.  

“It does mean we’ll need to be extra cautious,” Ignis warned. “Ardyn knows he can use Prompto - either of them - to get a reaction from Noctis.” Young Prompto shivered and Young Noctis pulled him closer against his side; up in the front of the van, Gladio gripped Adult Prompto’s wrist over the barcode again. 

“We’ll be safe at the haven,” Noctis said, hoping he sounded reassuring. “Ardyn’s a daemon - he can’t get to us there.” 

Ignis nodded. “We’ll rest tonight, and make further plans in the morning.”

There wasn’t much to say after that. The van settled into silence, the steady rumble of the engine and the whisper of tires on pavement lulling first Young Noctis, then Young Gladio and Young Ignis, to sleep. Young Prompto pressed further into Young Noctis’s side, trembling; belatedly Noctis realized the boy was still wearing nothing but threadbare pajama pants. The Leide desert got cold at night - no wonder he was shivering. Noctis unfastened his outer mantle and pulled it from his shoulders, then draped it over Young Prompto. The kid flashed him a grateful smile, curling tight under the heavy fabric. A minute later, he too was sound asleep. 

* * *

Several hours later, Noctis jolted awake as the van turned off the smooth pavement onto the bumpy gravel of the narrow trail behind Hammerhead that passed for the road to Cotisse Haven. The others woke up, too, murmuring in surprise and confusion for a moment before the kids remembered where they were and what was going on. It was still most of an hour from Hammerhead out to Cotisse, and Young Noctis dozed off again, but the other boys stayed awake, peering anxiously out the windshield at the flashes of desert illuminated by the bouncing headlights. 

Finally Prompto pulled the van to a stop between the tall boulders that marked the ramp up to Cotisse Haven. As the van’s bright headlights died, the softer blue glow of the haven’s runes filled the night. Noctis opened the back door of the van and jumped down to the sand, stretching. Being thirty sucked - five hours on the unforgiving bench seat had made his back and butt ache in ways they never had at twenty. 

Adult Ignis, Young Ignis, and Young Gladio followed him out, the kids staring around in a combination of unease and awe. Except for the soft light of the haven, it was completely dark in a way the Crown City never was, stars spilling like glitter across the night sky. 

“Whoa,” Young Gladio breathed, turning slowly as he took it all in. 

“Man,” Adult Prompto said wistfully, coming around from the front of the van. “I’d forgotten what stars looked like.”

“Pretty incredible,” Adult Gladio agreed. He ducked around the open van door and motioned for Young Prompto to climb onto his back. “Here, hop on.”  

“I can walk,” Young Prompto said indignantly. 

“On cut-up bare feet across a bunch of sand filled with bugs and scorpions?” Gladio asked.

Young Prompto recoiled so hard he fell back against Young Noctis behind him. “Okay! Point taken. Piggyback ride it is.” 

Gladio grinned as Young Prompto settled onto his back, arms wrapped around his neck, Noctis’s mantle flapping behind him like a cape. Young Noctis followed them up the ramp to the raised stone of the haven, asking if there really were scorpions out here while Gladio laughed. Young Gladio and Young Ignis hurried after their prince, while Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis brought up the rear. 

Setting up camp was easy, the motions familiar despite the forgotten ten years since they’d roamed the Lucian countryside together. Tent, chairs, warm fire burning in the center of the stone. The gear was a decade older, hard-used by his friends, but Ignis had kept it in good repair. It still smelled of salt water and old smoke and the fog that clung stubbornly to the waters between Leide and Insomnia, the memory of what was supposed to have been Noctis’s last camp with his friends before facing his death. 

But instead of dying, he’d fallen into the past. Young Prompto’s words from earlier echoed in his mind: can’t you change it? Noctis didn’t want to hope - didn’t dare hope, for fear he’d lose his nerve entirely when they returned to the present and that hope was proven futile - yet he couldn’t deny the idea was tantalizing. 

Futile or not, though, it was a thought for tomorrow. He’d burned a lot of energy tonight, first in flying out to Prompto’s house, then in running after the daemons and fighting Ardyn; and his nap in the van had done little to revitalize him. His younger self had already retreated to the tent with Young Prompto, and Noctis decided they’d had the right idea. He yawned, knuckles brushing Ignis’s arm as he stretched. “I’m gonna sleep,” he announced. 

“Sounds good,” Gladio said. “I got first watch. Prompto?”

“Yeah, fine,” Prompto said around a yawn of his own. “I’ll take second.” 

A slight frown furrowed Ignis’s forehead, but he didn’t speak up. Noctis couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything to the fact that Gladio hadn’t asked Ignis to help with the watches. Sure, Ignis might be blind, but he was as aware of his surroundings as any of them. It might have just been Noctis’s imagination, but he thought there was a new distance between Ignis and Gladio. It wasn’t as obvious as the new closeness between Gladio and Prompto - Noctis couldn’t even put his finger on what was making him think it was there - but it was something he’d have to watch for.

“We’ll help, too,” Young Gladio spoke up, interrupting Noctis’s thoughts. His arms were folded and he wore the stubborn expression Noctis knew all too well. 

Gladio and Prompto traded a speaking look. “We can handle it,” Gladio said. 

“Nevertheless,” Young Ignis said. “We’d prefer to help.” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on each watch,” Adult Ignis said diplomatically. “Besides, fitting seven in the tent will be difficult.”

“Six ain’t gonna be much better,” Gladio pointed out, but sighed. “Fine. You’re with me,” he said, pointing to Young Ignis. Then, to his younger self, “You’re with Prompto.” 

They nodded. As Gladio gave them a quick rundown of how the watches would work, Noctis waved goodnight and headed into the tent, Ignis right behind him. Young Noctis and Young Prompto were already inside, curled together against one wall like puppies, apparently asleep. Ignis stretched out against the other wall and Noctis sprawled beside him. After the way the four of them had slept piled together last night, it didn’t feel strange at all when Ignis rested an arm across Noctis’s stomach, his hand over Noct’s heart as though to reassure himself Noctis was still alive. 

Prompto and Young Gladio climbed into the tent next. Young Gladio settled near the other two kids, leaving a narrow strip of floor for Prompto. Prompto laid down carefully in between Young Gladio and Noctis, huddled in on himself like he was trying not to touch either of them. Noctis reached across the space between them and poked Prompto’s shoulder. “Get over here, dumbass,” he murmured. 

“I’m fine,” Prompto said. 

Noctis poked him again and held out his arm pointedly. Prompto rolled his eyes. “I gotta go on watch in a few hours. Can’t do that if I have a Noctopus clinging to me.” 

“You’ll figure it out,” Noctis answered. 

Prompto tried to glare at him, but a smile tugged at his mouth. He scooted over, pressing his back against Noctis’s chest as Noctis wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Noct closed his eyes, settling into his friends’ warmth. Maybe they could change destiny. Maybe they couldn’t. But the Stars had granted Noctis this extra time with his friends - his brothers - and while it would never make up for the ten years they’d lost, it was more than he could hope for. 

He wasn’t going to let it slip away again. 

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #chocobros #sanity's time travel fic #fanfiction